


Dirty Harry

by mickeylover303



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Gen, JRPG - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 06:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 166,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeylover303/pseuds/mickeylover303
Summary: After making an emergency landing on an unknown planet, Naruto and Itachi find themselves on one side of the storm, while Sasuke meets a peculiar stranger on the other. NarutoSasuke.  Random Space AU.





	1. Dirty Harry I: Stylo

“There’s no life out here.  This whole planet’s empty.  A wasteland.”  Naruto scoffs, throwing a small rock against the wall.  It barely does enough to make a scratch.  “We crash-landed in a dump.”

 

“We’re in a cave in the middle of the desert.”

 

“No fucking kidding.”

 

“Hm.”

 

“...hey, Itachi.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thanks for back there.  You know.  Saving me and all.  I really thought I’d—”

 

“You know you don’t have to thank me for that.  For now, you’re safe.  That’s what’s important.”

 

“And what about Sasuke?  He’s still out there somewhere, not with us because of me, but I’m the one who was supposed to look after him.  I’m the one who’s supposed to—”

 

Naruto sniffs, wiping at one eye with the back of his hand, cursing at the specks of sand caught between his fingers that make his vision blurry.

 

“Wasting his energy over something so small when he knows I can take care of myself.  I didn’t need—” Gritting his teeth, he snarls, pointedly looking away from his forearm that had been a mangled and bloodied mess not but a few hours before.  “The nerve of that stupid asshole.  He knows I heal fast.  I could’ve taken out that overgrown scorpion on my own.  He didn’t have to—”

 

“The dunemite’s stinger went straight through your arm.  After your body began to convulse, you lost consciousness because you’d lost too much blood.  You were trapped in the ship.  By the time I was able to reach you, the venom would have killed you if the blood loss didn’t.  Even with your enhanced healing, there was very little chance you would have survived had Sasuke not used his magic.”

 

Lips drawn in a tight line, Naruto doesn’t answer, head turned away from Itachi’s hard stare, eyes trained on the ridiculously tiny fire dividing the two of them.

 

“He placed his life in danger to save yours.  The least you can do is respect his decision.”

 

Naruto bites back the urge to say any more about it, ignoring the quiet reprimand in Itachi’s tone, because while his best friend is missing out there, so is Itachi’s brother, and the fact that Sasuke isn’t with them is taking a toll on Itachi, too, even if Itachi doesn’t necessarily show it.

 

But it’s not that he doesn’t respect Sasuke’s decision.  He gets how seriously injured he was, the fact that he wouldn’t have made it if Sasuke hadn’t passed on his own life force into him to keep him alive.  Doesn’t mean he has to like it, though.  “Who were those guys chasing after us, anyway?”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t say.  Though they flew unmarked, I wouldn’t immediately dismiss any possible association with the Federation.  With the tension already between us, our relationship has become very tenuous at best.  I wouldn’t be surprised if someone finally did decide to act on their vendetta against the Alliance.”

 

Crossing his legs with a grunt, Naruto looks to Itachi, eyebrows scrunched in thought.  “Trail leading back to Orochimaru, you think?”

 

“I can’t be sure.  Not unless we find the remains of the other ship, but Orochimaru’s intentions behind the proposed treaties have been questionable.”

 

“Yeah, right.  All the political visitations he’s suddenly been making lately, that’s putting it nicely.  Saying you could bear with him for the sake of negotiations that keep falling through is just pussyfooting around the huge pink elephant in the room.  Or cave, I guess.  In this case.”  Grim features pulled taut, Naruto grips his knee resting beneath his palm, voice darkening.  “...I don’t like him, Itachi.”

 

“The feeling’s mutual.”

 

“I mean, what Sasuke can do, that’s not so much of a secret anymore.  But that guy’s too obvious interest in Sasuke, the way he looks at Sasuke sometimes, like he’s just itching to slowly take him apart piece by piece to see what makes him tick, I hate that about him.

 

“Every time me and Sasuke are forced to go to those so-called peace talks, I can’t stand it.  I hate the fact I can’t do anything about it.  No matter how much just being in the same room as him gives me the chills.  Even Sakura’s creeped out by that snake.  And Sakura’s not creeped out by anything.  Hell, she’s one of the few people who actually has the balls to stand up to you.”

 

“Lieutenant Haruno,” Itachi automatically corrects, emphasising the importance of acknowledging rank Naruto seems to immediately disregard whenever it comes to the people he’s close to, his elders especially, Itachi not excluded.  “Orochimaru’s too closely linked with the Federation to risk losing his standing in the political melee.  Not while he’s still struggling to regain the favour he’s lost after the disaster with Tollan.  No, he’s too self-seeking to push his agenda publically.  I’m more worried about Danzou.”

 

“Danzou?  That way too old captain who everybody says should’ve kicked the bucket years ago?  He’s against the Federation.  What about him’s got you so worked up?”

 

“There’s been too much movement within the Alliance lately.  Too many changing of hands, too much passing off on responsibility to new blood suddenly qualified to retain high positions.  Until three days ago, Danzou was on the verge of retirement.  Since then, there’s been an impromptu shift of power the moment he announced his bid for sovereign.”

 

“But we don’t have one.”  Naruto frowns.  “Military-wise, the way our government works, as far as leaders go, maybe my dad’s probably the closest thing we’ll ever get to having an actual sovereign, which really isn’t saying much, but the sectors in the Alliance are independent.  That’s what makes us so different from the Federation.  We’re a democracy.  We don’t have one ruler.”

 

“Not yet.”

 

Naruto shivers at the almost certainty in those two words.  “...are things really that bad?”

 

“Danzou’s managed to gather a large influx of supporters.  The situation isn’t so dire at this point, but his reach continues to extend far.  It won’t be much longer until he’s in a position to tip the scales.”

 

“But everybody knows that guy’s a complete nut job.  He wants to take over the Federation, Itachi.  Preaching all that nonsense about how the people on the Other Side are lower than us, he wants a full-on _war_.”

 

“As do a growing number of vigilantes in the Alliance tired of futile peace negotiations.  I hadn’t intended to involve you and Sasuke in any of this so soon, but it seems I’ve been left with no choice.”

 

Running a hand through his hair, Itachi gives a bleak sort of half smile, a crack in his normally composed expression that used to make Naruto and Sasuke believe Itachi would always be invincible.  The light from the fire makes him look painfully weary, though, the dark lines beneath his eyes suddenly more prominent in the stillness of the cave.  “I only wish I hadn’t failed to prepare you two better.”

 

Naruto sighs, letting his shoulders sag a little.  “Well, I can’t say being shot down by space pirates was something I expected to look forward to this morning, but being stuck here with you, worse things have happened.”

 

Posture straight, the poor attempt at a smile falls from Itachi’s face, and suddenly, the indifferent mask is back.  “While I doubt they were meant to put either you or Sasuke in harm’s way, disposing of me is a different matter entirely, but I don’t trust the convenience of the attack.  Particularly what Danzou has to gain from my disappearance and the risk of him exploiting my absence for his own propaganda.  I don’t trust him.”

 

“You’re a paranoid guy.  You don’t trust anybody.”

 

“I trust you.”

 

Naruto fumbles for something to say, nearly bowled over by the significance of such a seemingly simple admission Itachi didn’t hesitate to make.  “Itachi, I...”

 

“Whatever my initial reservations concerning your relationship with Sasuke, my misgivings about Danzou’s ambitions are far greater.  It seems he’s taken a liking to you.”

 

“Me?  Why would he—” Eyes slightly wide, Naruto leans forward, chewing at the corner of his lip, tentative gaze never leaving Itachi’s.  “Does he know about—”

 

“No.  He’s been curious, though.  Filling a decent amount of retrieval requests for your records.  Because he’s doing it through the official channels, it’s nothing presumably suspicious, yet there’s little basis I can discern for his sudden interest in you.”

 

“I know I used to get in trouble a lot for pranking people and stuff, but I can’t have that much of a record.  It’s only  been two years since I got accepted into the Academy.”

 

“Being Namikaze Minato’s son, you shouldn’t be surprised by how many people follow your progress.  As well, despite your age, you can’t discount your extensive flying experience prior to the Academy.  Apart from the more abstract concepts you still need to learn, as far as your tactical skills and aptitude for piloting are concerned, you have the potential to be the top rookie in your class.”

 

Naruto scoffs.  “Only because Sasuke’s not in the Academy with me.  We really could’ve been amazing together out there, you know.  Something real special up there in the stars.  Give everybody else who pretends they know how to fly a real run for their money.”

 

Again, he scoffs, fingers toying with the squared guard of the sword Sasuke left behind lying on the ground beside him, the curved, single-edged blade still stained with the blood from the dunemite Sasuke killed.  “But my sheer awesomeness aside, if Danzou is interested, the fact that I’m almost as good of a fighter pilot as my dad can’t be the only reason he’s after me.”

 

“No, but your father and mother have pulled many strings to ensure few people know about you as possible.  Our family, as well.  We’ve all done our best for both your sake and Sasuke’s.  Sasuke’s abilities we couldn’t keep hidden, but the burden you’ve endured yourself to carry...”

 

“Not to mention Sasuke’s connection to it.  If anyone outside our families knew that he could manipulate—”

 

“That,” Itachi says, frighteningly calm, near ominous, “I won’t allow to happen.”

 

Letting go of Sasuke’s sword, hands fallen in his lap clasped together then pulled apart, Naruto gives a slow nod, reassured by the quiet intensity in Itachi’s voice, because he doesn’t want to question an assurance they both know Itachi wouldn’t be able to keep forever, because it’s easier to pretend he and Sasuke are five again, and being told they were special just meant they were lucky enough to have someone as cool as Itachi looking out for them.

 

Not because Sasuke had the rarest form of magic imaginable and Naruto had a powerful ancient demon that fought in the First Great War sealed inside of him.

 

Fingers curled into his palms, he presses his thumbs against throbbing knuckles.  “I can fight with my fists, but Sasuke doesn’t even have his sword.  Being out there alone, with no way to make contact, when we’re stranded in uncharted territory in a desert that spans for who knows how long, and he—”

 

“Can be incredibly resourceful.  You know this.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know that.  I know he can handle himself.  He’s handed me my ass more times than I can count just to make sure I don’t forget, but it’s just—why aren’t you blaming me?  I thought for sure you’d be mad at me.  If my foot hadn’t got stuck under the seat, if Sasuke hadn’t tried to save me...”

 

“Being separated, yes, the circumstances are far from agreeable.  The consequences of Sasuke’s actions...rather than himself, he chose to protect you.  He’s always been reckless, too negligent with his wellbeing for anyone’s sanity, much less my own, but he wanted to protect you, Naruto.  I won’t—I can’t fault you for that.

 

“If anything, I fault myself for allowing you to be in this situation at all.  I couldn’t bear to lose either of you.”

 

Blinking away the slight sting behind his eyes, with a hollow laugh, Naruto looks up, tracing the shadows from the flames dancing along the ceiling of the cave.  “Heh.  So I get to be Naruto again, huh?”

 

“Like Sasuke says, you’ll always be Naruto.”

 

Lowering his gaze, Naruto gives Itachi a cheeky grin.  “What about Sasuke’s boyfriend?  Can I always be that, too?”

 

Itachi lets out a soft snort.  “Don’t push your luck, Uzumaki.”

 

“And now it’s back to Uzumaki.”  Still grinning, Naruto pulls at a loose thread from his pants, unravelling the stitching near the outside of his knee.  “...for such a sudden show of acceptance, you do remember you almost killed me last month, right.  Almost took my head clean off, among other things, so...yeah.  Just to throw that out there.  Because you like to opportunely forget things at certain times.”

 

“Discovering my little brother has been having an illicit affair with a sordid pilot eight months his senior, my reaction couldn’t be helped.”

 

Naruto nearly chokes on a squeak.  “First off, there is nothing sordid about me.  And we don’t have an illicit relationship.  We’re both sixteen.  Or well, okay, yeah, I’ll been seventeen in a couple more weeks, but it’s perfectly leg—”

 

“However, I will say this.”

 

“...yeah?”

 

“Make one false move, Uzumaki, and I won’t hesitate to give Sasuke the opportunity to never speak to me again.”

 

“Somehow, that, um, with the way you’re not really smiling at me right now, that sort of sounds like some kind of thinly veiled threat.”

 

“It is.”

 

“There’re horror stories about you floating around the base, you know.  Sakura’s told me some, about the trainees under your command when you were Chief.  She said the time she spent with you being her mentor was straight up pure hell.  Even someone like Kakashi knows better than to mess with you.”

 

“You’ve committed yourself to being the exception to the rule, evidently.”

 

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t really count with us.”  Sitting up a little from his place leaned against the wall, Naruto scratches the back of his head, grimacing as his fingers stop at the knotted strands of hair clumped together by traces of dried blood.  “I’ve been around you like, forever.  My entire life.  So I know if you dig down inside you, somewhere really, really deep down there, like way down in there beyond all the Admiral Uchiha stuff, you’re pretty much a big softie.”

 

A dark eyebrow is raised.  “I wouldn’t consider myself a pushover.”

 

“Maybe not a complete softie, but something close enough to being that.  The same way Sasuke contradicts himself more than half the time, when he does the things he says he’s not going to do but still ends up doing, anyway.  Because there’s some kind of weird biological tic that prevents him from expressing his feelings like normal people.”

 

“I can’t account for Sasuke’s personality, but regarding your belief that I’m a supposed softie, you haven’t had the pleasure of being one of my trainees.”

 

“Which I am very grateful for.”  Gingerly, with a slight wince, Naruto uncrosses both legs, not able to fully extend them because the cave is just that small but still able to get in something close to a stretch.  “Extremely grateful for, since that same pleasure will now never have a chance to be had.”

 

“Admittedly, on occasion, I have been told my disciplinary methods can be rather...inspired.”

 

“Yeah, and that insane simulation program mandatory to pass to basic flight training, when Sasuke told me you’re the one who coded that, it’s no wonder why the graduating class is always so small.  Most people have to repeat that whole course year at least twice.”

 

“You passed it on the first attempt.”

 

“Hell, yeah, I did.  And it was crazy hard, too.  Almost impossible.”  Naruto’s grin grows wider at the slight twitch almost bringing a genuine smile to Itachi’s lips.  “But two years back, Sasuke coded a mock version of Tsukuyomi, and we used to sneak in the training deck and upload his programme to see who could get the best time.  He’s still ahead of me by five seconds, but I already told him I was going beat him one day.  If only it wasn’t for that stupid law that keeps him from signing up for the Academy.”

 

“It’s for his own protection, as well as for the people around him.”

 

“Yeah, I get that, accidentally Influencing people, not being able to fully control that part of his magic yet, especially since it can go haywire sometimes, but just because he happens to be who he is, doesn’t mean it’s fair to keep him from doing something he’s really good at.”

 

Itachi makes a low noise, a not quite hum that could be taken to mean either agreement or indifference.  “I suppose your relationship hasn’t changed that much.”

 

“I don’t think it has.  Or at least it doesn’t feel like it’s changed a lot.  Except for the seriously incredible mind-blowing se—I mean, uh, yeah,” Naruto stammers, cutting himself off at Itachi’s sharp expression that instantly reminds him it’s Itachi he’s talking to.  Itachi, not someone like Kiba or Shikamaru or any other of his friends from the Academy, because even though they’re really close, Itachi is still Sasuke’s older brother, and there are just some things that aren’t supposed to be done with Itachi.

 

One of them is going around talking about his and Sasuke’s sex life.

 

Or recently lack thereof, he should say, ever since Itachi caught him sneaking through the window into Sasuke’s room carrying a full bag of condoms, which led to Itachi trying to kill him, which then led to that highly embarrassing involuntary confession about the first time he and Sasuke almost had sex and Sasuke accidently nearly bled his life force dry but just as soon brought him back to life and on, the brink of what could’ve been one of the most amazing orgasms ever by way of the life force Sasuke transferred to him through a kiss—he’s still going to call it sex magic, no matter how many times Sasuke says it isn’t.

 

“Not at all,” he eventually manages to recover.  “Things between us are the same they’ve always been.  I still call him a bastard.  He still calls me an idiot.  I guess dating’s gotten us a little closer, now that we have that kind of relationship, but we’re still just Naruto and Sasuke, you know.”

 

“In the near future, that same relationship may well be composed solely of Sasuke and his memory of you.”

 

“You’d seriously risk Sasuke never speaking to you ever again just to get rid of me?”

 

“If it entails Sasuke coping with you being on the receiving end of an unfortunate accident, coinciding with the explosion of your ship in mid-flight brought down by friendly fire unwittingly obscured beneath the pretext of enemy fire, I’m confident he has the capacity to get over it.”

 

Although he already knows Itachi has a very dark, almost wicked sense of humour, that a large part of him definitely knows Itachi would never really orchestrate that whole too highly well thought out scenario just to keep him from being with Sasuke, never mind Itachi’s peaceful expression and utterly calm delivery when he says these types of things, Naruto still can’t help it when his eyes bulge just a little.  “...that isn’t the most comforting thing to say to the person you practically helped raise and are still extremely close to.”

 

“It’s not supposed to be.”

 

Shoulders starting to shake, Naruto tries and fails to keep in a snort, letting loose the heavy laughter bubbling within his chest, eyes bright, tinged with a smidgen of hysteria it takes too much effort to hold back, because all he can think about right now is how much Sasuke takes after his unapologetic brother, how much Sasuke acts _just_ like Itachi, and damn it if he wouldn’t give anything to know that Sasuke’s okay.

 

Eventually, the laughter subsides, though, the brief note of not so happy calm broken by another overwrought silence despite Itachi’s second attempt at a smile too worn-out that only manages to make him look even more tired than Naruto already feels.

 

“It feels like we’ve been sitting in this cave since the beginning of time.  My back hurts.  My legs are too numb to move anymore.  I think I’m forgetting how to use my arms.  Every second I spend cooped up in here is another second I could be using to look for Sasuke out there, and I just feel so useless not being able to—”

 

“Get some rest, Naruto.  We’ll find Sasuke tomorrow.  The temperature’s dropped too low to go searching tonight, and you’re in no condition to do anything other than sleep.”

 

“I know, but...”  Naruto trails off with a heavy sigh, biting his lip to rein in the angry frustration Itachi doesn’t deserve to be an outlet for.  It’s useless to argue with him, anyway.

 

“It’ll be fine.  I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

Uncomfortable, reluctantly, Naruto tries to settle against the hard wall with too many jagged edges digging into this back.  He closes his eyes, gradually lulled to sleep by the intermittent crackling of the fire already starting to die down.

 


	2. Dirty Harry II: White Flag

“I was told it wasn’t devised to be released.”

 

“If it was put on you, I don’t see why it can’t be taken off.”  Sasuke’s mouth curves into a near frown, fingers of his left hand methodically searching the metal collar for any potential weak points.  “I’ve never seen anything like this before, though.  I wonder if—”

 

Flinching from a short burst of pain, he recoils from the unexpected impulse of magic, landing on his backside hard against the floor.  “The hell kind of collar is this?”

 

“Are you—”

 

“It’s nothing,” Sasuke grits out, fingers holding the wrist of his left hand nursed against his chest as he forces himself to sit up.  He allows a trickle of magic to flow to his hands, not too much, but just enough that he’s able to ignore the lingering sting prickling the tips of his fingers.

 

“Please be careful, Shiva.”

 

“Don’t call me that.”  With a grunt, Sasuke narrows his eyes.  He breathes in and places both hands on the collar this time, gently laying his fingers over the heavily bruised skin beneath it as he breathes out.  “I’m no different than you.  Being able to use magic doesn’t make me any more important.”

 

“It’s an acknowledgement of respect.  Those who could be called Shiva were rare in my village.  To wield magic is a precious gift.  But to be in the presence of an Amala—”

 

“They’re just words, Juugo,” Sasuke says, holding back his irritation, lips pursed at the near veneration in Juugo’s voice.  Whatever the nuances behind Shiva and Amala are supposed to be, he doesn’t mean to take offense, not when Juugo makes the words seem like such an innocuous gesture, but he’s tired of people constantly reducing him to his ability to use magic and revering him for something more trouble than it’s worth.  “Useless titles like that don’t mean a damn thing.”

 

“If removing the collar is of no use, I’ve learned to endure it.”  There’s a subtle panic in Juugo’s eyes, underlying an unease already there that makes him look torn between letting Sasuke help him and grabbing Sasuke’s arm to haul him away from the collar.  “I’m able to live despite this curse.”

 

“I already told you.  Everything’s fine.  It’s fine, just...just hold still for me a little longer, all right.”  Sasuke doesn’t really know how to disengage the collar, but he does have an idea that, in theory, seems like it should work.

 

Crafting a loophole of sorts, he’s going to try to redirect Juugo’s life force to prevent it from reaching collar, creating a blockade using the metal of the collar itself.  This based on the assumption its Juugo’s life force powering whatever internal mechanism keeping the collar intact, since trying to remove it without magic only results in the collar becoming tighter.

 

His only stipulation is being able to pull the whole thing off while keeping Juugo from suspecting he was a life user.  Unless they were users themselves, most people weren’t sensitive to the majority of the magic surrounding them, yet even the most insensate person would be aware of someone tampering with their life force.

 

Passing as a metal elemental he could get away with.  At least he didn’t deny it when Juugo asked if he was one, which is he is, in a roundabout way.  As a life user, simply drawing from his own energy or the energy around him, he has the ability to manipulate any kind of magic.  He doesn’t exactly go around parading that particular ability, taught to instinctively refrain from using it around people who don’t know; the pervading spread of misinformation about life magic convinced most to assume life users could only focus on the energies of the people within immediate distance, and his family—even Kushina and Minato to a noteworthy extent—could never stress enough how important it was to allow that obsolete school of thought to prevail.

 

But Juugo had taken him in last night, found him unconscious after being swept away from the storm that had separated him from his brother and Naruto, humbly offered this poor excuse for shelter and what little food he had when he could’ve simply left him to die instead.  The least he could do is try to repay Juugo with a chance at freedom from the collar keeping him bound to this makeshift prison in the middle of the desert.

 

“It may hurt at first,” he says, remembering vividly the eager, hopeful light in Juugo’s eyes when he proposed getting rid of the collar, “probably feel like you won’t be able to breathe, so be ready for that, but give me a few, uh, give me a few more seconds.”

 

Quiet, Juugo does as he’s told, sitting on his knees, hunched forward and head lowered, eerily still with the exception of the measured rise and fall of his shoulders.

 

Much stronger than before, a sharp pain assaults him between his eyes, the strain from the collar trying to deflect his magic, and Sasuke sucks in a harsh breath, determined to push through despite the pounding in his head and his vision bleary continuing to darken.

 

An unpleasant feeling begins to crawl over him.  While he’s never encountered this kind of magic before, the initial sensation isn’t too dissimilar from his brother’s shadow magic, yet this magic is a cruel perversion of Itachi’s enveloping warmth that had always swathed him comforting and familiar, becomes a decaying sensation that seeps through his skin, coursing through his veins, festering inside his body an invisible, almost sentient mass that threatens to take him under, threatens to submerge him in absolute darkness, and it bodes within him an overwhelming trepidation he can’t immediately shake off.

 

After a moment, following what couldn’t possibly be more or three or four seconds stretched far too long, the collar unlocks with a sharp hiss, and he lets out a soft gasp.  He feels his body pitch forward into Juugo, head fallen against Juugo’s chest, eyes shut tight against the inadvertent absorption of the residual backlash from the magic used to forge the collar.

 

Shallow breaths come in succession too fast.  His mind feels too dull to move his body, but he can feel Juugo snatch the collar clutched in his hands, a single heave to wrench it from his grasp almost against his will unable to let go.

 

The decaying sensation finally begins to recede, but when Sasuke’s eyes open they grow too wide, the white clouding his vision nearly blinding, and he bites down on the inside of his cheek to muffle a silent scream at the unfamiliar magic searing his palms, an unmitigated pulsation piercing through his skull.

 

Chest heaving, he watches the collar shatter, Juugo easily crushing it into tiny little pieces of metal scattered among dust and tossing the remains in the corner of the diminutive cell.

 

Eyesight hazy, body heavy and numb, vaguely, he registers the far away litany of _SasukeSasukeSasuke_.  The gentle tone of Juugo’s voice snaps him out of his stupor.  It takes a moment for awareness to set in, and he blinks, giving himself a little more time to get a hold of his bearings.

 

Knees taking the brunt of his weight, abrupt, he pushes himself away from Juugo.  He staggers a little, nearly stumbles over, but regains his balance before he can fall, overly cautious taking a seat on the uneven surface of the floor that doesn’t cushion his wobbly landing.

 

“...Sasuke?”

 

“I...”

 

“Are you unharmed?”

 

“Y-yeah.  I’m fine.”

 

“Your eyes, they’re still glow—”

 

“I’m fine.”  Swallowing hard, Sasuke closes his eyes then forces them to stay open, willing away the fog in his mind still making it difficult to see.  Following a slow inhale, he exhales, pauses and repeats, giving his lungs a chance to adjust to the steady supply of air.  He almost starts at the feel of large fingers gently wrapped around his arm, and only then does he realise he’s actually shaking.  “I’ll be fine.  I’ll be...I’m fine.”

 

Juugo studies him carefully, the disbelief evident beneath the concern marring his face, an obvious worry reflected in the depths of red eyes that seem to stare right through him, but he seems content to accept Sasuke’s word for now, not making an attempt to press further as he releases Sasuke’s arm.  “I...thank you, Sasuke.”  He releases a heavy sigh, long and drawn-out, as if a literal weight’s been taken off his shoulders.  “Thank you.”

 

Trying to appear nonchalant, Sasuke shrugs off the gratitude.  Freeing Juugo from the collar took more out of him than he’d anticipated.  Using his magic had exerted him more than he’s willing to admit.  However, he’d never come across magic like that before, nothing so...sinister, which is especially disconcerting considering the nature of magic itself has nothing do with how a person chooses to use it.

 

Magic isn’t innately good or bad.  It just _is_.

 

Yet there was something off about the magic lining the collar.  Almost primitive, it felt inherently disturbing, noisome in the way it tried to latch onto his own magic in an attempt to consume him.

 

Although it’d probably be a good idea to examine the collar, to learn just how it affected his magic in the event he had to deal with something similar in the future, he’s in no hurry to complain about Juugo destroying it.

 

“As much as I appreciate the hospitality, staying here isn’t going to cut it much longer.  Our best bet is to try to rendezvous with the people who came with me,” he says, unable to suppress a violent shudder as he picks up his communicator lying idle on the floor.  The inside teeming with sand, dark screen cracked, the visible wires shorted out or torn, a missing transmitter the one piece he really did need, there’s no point in trying to make use of a communicator beyond repair, so he doesn’t, setting it back on the floor.

 

He has no reason not to believe Itachi and Naruto managed to escape the storm together, won’t even let himself entertain the very possibility of that thought, but with no way to contact either of them, it was probably more favourable to wait for them to find him, in order not to hazard running circles around each other in a backdrop of seemingly endless sand.  At least until it was a little cooler outside.

 

Not to mention, he still needs some time to decide what to do with Juugo.  Leaving him here is out of the question.  It isn’t even an option, but it’s a given he was going to have one hell of a time trying to convince his brother to allow Juugo to come with them.

 

“Hopefully the storm didn’t pit us too far away from each other.  It’s already morning now, so...”  He looks around the place Juugo calls home, surveying the small cell only one in an extensive network of cells composing the prison.

 

The area horrendously cramped for someone of Juugo’s size, he makes note of the clear lack of supplies barely enough to last Juugo for another day, much less the two of them, the stark absence of any personal belongings or true comforts, save for the battered old quilt wrought with holes Juugo took care to bundle him in last night—busying himself with any minute detail to help take his mind off how much the collar had affected him.

 

“Tell me more about Barrah.”

 

“What would you like to hear?”

 

“Anything.  I’ve never heard of it before.”  And Sasuke hadn’t.  Until now, as far as he knew, this place didn’t even exist.  Trying to shake off the ship pursuing them, looking for somewhere to land, he, Itachi, and Naruto stumbled upon the small planet by chance.  Yet Barrah wasn’t charted on any of their ship’s maps equipped from the navigation libraries, which are pretty extensive considering the fact they traced back all known explorations held within the last millennia.  “Discovering it now, it’s...strange.”

 

Amused, Juugo tilts his head a little, wearing an unassuming smile, with a crinkling around the outside of his eyes that makes him look older than Sasuke initially pegged him to be.  Much older.  Maybe even more so than his parents.  “What remains unseen doesn’t become untrue.”

 

Sasuke snorts, pulling Itachi’s jacket closer around his body.  Answering with that kind of ambiguity, it sounded like something his brother would probably say.  “I take it you’ve never left, then.  Being so isolated from the rest of this sector.”

 

Juugo gives an absent nod, almost wistful.  “Barrah has always been what I’ve called home.  Yet my home has not always been how you see it before you now.”  He looks up, eyebrows knit together in thought, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his mouth.  “The sand covering Barrah stretches for days upon end, but my home was once a paradise.  My people were once free.”

 

He looks down, broad shoulders bunched, doing the impossible of making his two-metre frame look smaller.  His voice begins to trail off, gaze distant tinged with an almost palpable nostalgia.  “...though memory tends to escape me, there was a time when I was not the last of my kind.”

 

Propped against the wall, Sasuke folds his legs, ignoring the marked sensation of cold from the sterile tile smooth beneath his back despite his jacket.  “What changed?”

 

“One night, I was awoken by dreadful screams.  The sounds of painful cries were heralds of death as flames engulfed my village.  Men who hid behind masks dragged me from my bed as they continued to raze my village to the ground.  My people and I were marched across the desert for three days and four nights, taken beneath the sand and held inside a labyrinth of metallic stone chambers where we waited to be either enslaved for labour or placed at the mercy of the Snake Charmer and his experiments.”

 

Following a shuddering breath, Juugo pauses, raising his gaze to stare at the thick metal bars straight ahead.  Fingers flexed, his hands clench into fists held still over his lap.  There’s a glimmer of yellow in his eyes, merely a trace of the other side of him Sasuke only caught a brief glimpse of earlier this morning.

 

Softly, he breathes out, fingers unfurling as the tension immediately leaves his body, the transitory spell of anger gone just as quickly as it had come.

 

“When they’d no longer found use of us,” he says, “the Masked Men left us only food and water.  Left us alone to die within these stone walls, bound by collars that held us prisoner.  Over time, I became the sole survivor of my village.  Of my people.  But for me, the Barrah I’d always known had been forsaken.”

 

Sasuke shifts, arms wrapped around his torso, fingers gripping the sides of his jacket for warmth.  “...why didn’t you fight back?”

 

“Apart from the elders in my village, I was often shunned by those who did not understand my turmoil.”  Juugo manages a disparaging smile.  “But despite the anger that rages inside me, the teachings of my people advocate against violence.  And never before had there been a reason to fear anyone who came to Barrah.”

 

“But people like that...”

 

“They had powerful weapons where we could offer no physical defence.  Their technology was more advanced than anything we’d ever been introduced to and vastly overwhelmed the few magic users who attempted to liberate our people.  In this prison beneath the sand is where I’ve been held captive for years too many to remember.  Too many years I’ve remained here forgotten.”

 

Head turned away, Sasuke stares at the white wall bleak beyond the cell’s sliding door held wide open.  He licks chapped lips and swallows, then raises his head to meet Juugo’s calm gaze.  “I’m sorry.”

 

He knows it won’t give any real comfort, knows all too well such a vacant sentiment won’t do anything to change what’s already been done, but regardless of how meagre, it’s the only thing he has to offer.

 

Juugo gives a slight shake of his head, mouth slowly curving into a smile.  “Please don’t be.  I’ve made peace with my past.”

 

“Even with the ones who did this to you?”

 

“Yes.  The people of Barrah have always been of a peaceful nature.  It’s not our way to harbour ill will towards others, and we hold immense pride over the strength in our beliefs.  Despite such misfortune, revenge won’t bring my people back.  Revenge won’t return to me the life I once lived.  Yet while the Snake Charmer continues to roam the Unreachable Sky, my only hope is that he forces no one else to suffer the fate I have.”

 

“When you say Snake Charmer, did he go by another name?”

 

“He called himself Orochimaru.”

 

On some level, hearing the name surprises Sasuke.  At the same time, though, it doesn’t.  Few people he knows don’t have lingering suspicions about him.  _Unctuous_ , his mom once called Orochimaru, the first time Sasuke met him three years ago, when he and Naruto travelled with their parents to that failed peace summit held on Nublar III.

 

It was supposed to be a show of good faith at the time, proposed by some of the Federation’s higher-ups, this idea of inviting Naruto and him to the first attempt at a peace treaty between the Federation and the Alliance in over two decades.

 

His dad being Commander-in-Chief and his mom, who’d, at the time, just won re-election for a seat in the Enterprise Chamber of Commerce; then Minato being Head of State and Kushina serving as an unofficial sector ambassador, coinciding with her position in the Cabinet’s Foreign Affairs Ministry for the oversight of trade policy—with their parents’ staunch political ambit and how close their families actually are to one another, by all outward appearances, the Federation’s proposal didn’t seem to be too much of a stretch.

 

However, since that first summit, he’s been far from appreciative of the less than subtle glances Orochimaru’s occasionally sent his way, the disturbing interest in his life magic, how many times Orochimaru tried to corner him during the recesses of those first few summits, the number of times he tried to initiate conversation with him outside the summits, and he hated the unremitting feeling of being exposed, of feeling susceptible to the blatant intent behind those eyes that always seemed to be watching him.

 

It was because of Orochimaru, or rather the notion of people like him, that his parents decided to impose on him Neji and Sai, to keep a closer eye on his well-being, they claimed, whenever neither of them nor Itachi couldn’t; it didn’t help that his brother handpicked them himself and then tried to convince him that being given his own security detail was a perfectly suitable birthday present for a thirteen year old.

 

Loud and annoying like he seldom isn’t, never mind him being the one who’s always insisted on staying close together at the summits, of course Naruto laughed about the whole thing.

 

Until he was effectively put out of his misery by a solid smack upside the head.

 

“You’ve heard of the Snake Charmer?”  Juugo says, more of a statement than a question.

 

“Unfortunately.”  Hands disappearing beneath the cuffs of jacket sleeves too long for his arms, Sasuke does all but curb a slight grimace.

 

Still, despite how unnerving it is to be the subject of Orochimaru’s overt fascination, if this Snake Charmer is the same Orochimaru he knows, scientist or not, being such a high ranking commissioner in the Federation, for Orochimaru to be capable of committing what basically amounts to the genocide of Juugo’s people, it’s not a crime he’d immediately associate with him.

 

Genocide’s practically unheard of now, even with the on-going feud between the Alliance and the Federation.  The last known record of genocide occurred after the First Great War, eight hundred some odd years ago during the Second Great War.  For the most part, the causalities were magic users; save for the pocket number who were lucky enough to find refuge, as a whole, people like him were nearly driven to extinction.  Following the aftermath of the Second Great War, however, intergalactic protocols were established to prevent it from happening again.

 

“I believe he wished to study my people’s sensitivity to different forms of magic,” Juugo says, abruptly breaking Sasuke out of his thoughts.  “Despite the measures taken, his true goal was to understand our ability to see magical auras.”

 

Dark eyebrows rise in surprise.  While Sasuke will readily admit he’s been sheltered for the majority of his life, whatever magic doctrine he’s been permitted to study restricted to what he’s learned through classes and read about from the Principal Data Hub, or what he’s been able to learn from other magic users, determining another person’s magic affinity, the technology for it doesn’t even exist, and doing so with magic, he can’t honestly say he’s heard of anything like it.

 

His own magic gives him a sort of sixth sense.  He’s always highly perceptive of people’s emotions, making him a kind of empath, like Neji’s cousin Hinata more or less, but he usually attributes his empathy to being a life user and his indiscriminate tendency to Influence people.  Although the latter’s never been intentional, mostly a side effect of simply having life magic, because there really isn’t that much information about life magic to suggest otherwise, inducing feelings of euphoria does make it easier to accidentally sway people when he’s not paying too close attention.

 

Or, as one of the Academy students he met through Kiba, Ino, so eloquently once put it, if he wasn’t more careful, that part of his magic could end up making someone delirious enough to jump off the Tomosada Bridge wearing the stupidest, most ridiculously inane looking smile on their face even after they hit the ground.

 

“Being able to see auras,” he says, leaning forward a little closer, “is that an ability all magic users have, or is it specific to your people?”

 

“I’m not certain, but the earliest tales of my people, long before even the time of my birth, the old stories passed along to Mahatma say that when the Faceless first came many eons ago, he created a magical barrier around Barrah.  It served to protect those on Barrah from the Outside.  Yet as a consequence, the barrier greatly diminished the magic of the Faceless.  This held true for the magic of my ancestors, as well.”

 

“So the atmosphere here, is that why it feels...”  Sasuke almost frowns, trying to find the right word.  He noticed it the moment he woke up this morning.  Oppressive, he wants to say, but it isn’t that being here has taken away his ability to use magic.  It’s only somewhat hindered the natural ease of access he’s accustomed to, an ease he’s been told fairly often he takes for granted.

 

Although if there has been some kind containment shield protecting Barrah for however long, it lends more credence to the anomaly of how Barrah’s existence had managed to slip under the radar, especially since it lies in the outer rim of highly disputed territory that’s been fought over by the Alliance and the Federation for the last twenty years.

 

It still doesn’t explain how Orochimaru managed to get through, though.

 

“Since the time of my ancestors,” Juugo says, “we’ve learned to adapt more passive forms of magic.  Very few of my people were blessed with magic beyond the gift of this sight.  We called them Shiva.  Our inability to use higher forms of magic was the sacrifice my ancestors offered to the Faceless in return for the barrier protecting Barrah, but your life magic—”

 

“I never said I wasn’t a metal elemental.”  The air around him stills, and Sasuke narrows his eyes, covered knuckles of his left hand pressing hard into the floor, fingers itching to grab the sword he doesn’t have.

 

Putting himself on the defensive, it’s a reflex.  For as long as he can remember, countless times he’s been told not to tell, until this throat felt parched and his tongue dry made to promise over and over again to keep his life magic a secret no one else could ever know.

 

Even though there’s nothing to say Juugo has any adverse intentions towards him, in hindsight, he also realises it was still a risk to free from Juugo from the collar that, for all intents and purposes, may have been there for a pretty damn good reason.

 

And it was a stupid risk.  A stupidly irresponsible risk because he knows he’s not home.  He’s alone.  Stranded in some abandoned prison buried beneath the desert of a planet he’s never even heard of until today.  He’s not back at the base that became his haven, where the knowledge of him being able to use life magic is something the minority who do know are decidedly those who’d never attempt to take advantage of him.

 

“What makes you think I’m a life user?”

 

“Your natural affinity for magic is already exceedingly strong,” Juugo says, soothing, almost as he’s attempting to appease the fears of a child.  “But as a wielder of life magic, you have a distinctive aura.  There is a clear light that surrounds you.  It’s an extraordinary light that hasn’t been heard of among my people for hundreds of years.”

 

“You already knew what I was.”

 

“Not what you are, Sasuke.”  At this, Juugo gives him a modest smile, earnest and not unkind, but Sasuke levels him with a wary gaze.  “Who you are.”

 

His magic’s always been a touchy subject, but if Juugo’s known all this time, there’s nothing Sasuke can really do about it now.  Juugo hasn’t done anything about it, and the sincerity bleeding through red eyes makes him highly doubt Juugo will.

 

With a sigh, he flexes his fingers, relaxing his hand, letting the oversized cuff trapped against his palm fall to his wrist.  Sparing a quick glance to Juugo’s neck, he lets out a derisive snort, for the first time noticing the fading bruise where the collar had been, the severe contusion no longer a darkened ring circling Juugo’s neck.  The damaged skin isn’t fully healed, but the difference is apparent enough.

 

The upshot of a subconscious pull, he hadn’t even realised what he was doing, not while he was wrestling with the backlash from the collar’s magic, but he should’ve known.  The next time he finds himself in this kind of situation, he can’t afford not to know.

 

“Did you read my aura before or after I started to heal you?”

 

“Even within the recesses of these stone walls, I was drawn to the bright light surrounding you.  During the calm of the storm, it led me outside, where I discovered you lying in the sand.”

 

“...oh.”  Sasuke falters, again picking up the broken communicator lying beside him, the insubstantial weight lingering in his hand, teetering on the edge of his palm before he sets it down.  “So it’s not something I’ve could have hid from you.  Whether I wanted to or not.”

 

“As you are now, no, but I’m glad to have found you.  Meeting you has granted me an opportunity towards inner peace I’d once resigned myself to believe would always be out of reach.  Your mere presence calms the fury that burns within me.”

 

Pursing his lips, Sasuke shifts against the wall, gripping the cuff of his sleeve to quell a growing discomfort.  Juugo’s been trapped down here wearing that collar for who knows how long.  After experiencing that kind of physical and psychological trauma, it’s understandable that he’d develop a rapid attachment to the first person he’s presumably met in years.

 

But it’s the repeat display of that same kind of veneration from earlier, the esteem mistaking him for something he’s not that makes him uneasy and eager to dismiss Juugo’s expression.  “There’s nothing special about me to warrant having that kind of effect on you.”

 

“My anger made me unusual among my kind.  Though I was not always feared, from a young age I realised the worth of neither being seen nor heard.  But for the love of my father, I was a pariah in our village, through the eyes of my people eternally damned to a rage that nearly consumed me as a child.  Yet you’re one of the few who...”

 

Waking up in a cold cell disoriented and sore, opening his eyes to be met with Juugo’s face hovering too close looming over him, Sasuke can admit the circumstances weren’t encouraging.

 

The last thing he could pull from memory was Itachi taking over the controls, the harness too tight across his chest securing him to his seat, bracing himself in that one terse moment of complete and utter silence right before the impact, the acrid wail from the metal buckling around them, the sand lashing at his face, echoes of Naruto’s screams cutting through the harsh winds a constant ringing in his ears, being tossed in the air and nearly trampled by the second dunemite while Itachi hauled an unconscious Naruto from the ship.

 

Immediately, he tried to sit up.  Movement slightly mired by the tattered quilt covering him, he looked for signs of either his brother or Naruto, but he only found concern from the red-haired stranger who’d laid a large hand on his shoulder.

 

Despite his imposing figure, even at first glance, there was something serene about Juugo, something that’d put him a little more at ease and helped assuage much of his initial apprehension due to being separated from his brother and Naruto.  That, or knowing Naruto for so long really has been detrimental to the self-preservation skills Itachi had so painstakingly tried to instil in him.

 

“The freedom you’ve given me, Sasuke, it’s a gift I will never be able to fully return in kind.”

 

“You’re the one who found me.  You don’t owe me anything.”

 

“Please allow me the opportunity to try.”

 

Fingers rubbing at his temple, Sasuke sighs, dropping his arm to rest over his knee.  “I won’t leave you here, Juugo.  If we—when we find a way off Barrah, we’ll take you to the nearest port with a refugee terminal, fill out some papers, and then get you situated somewhere safe, where you can start a new life.”

 

“I would consider it a privilege to join you on your pilgrimage.”

 

“Pilgrimage to where?  As soon as I leave here, I’m going home, and I doubt you’d want to stay hosed up in some training base for the rest of your life.”

 

“Wherever you wish to go, if you’ll have me, I will gladly follow.”

 

“Listen, I only took the collar off.”  The words bring a slight quirk to Sasuke’s lips a near frown, but he doesn’t let it turn into anything more.  “Don’t make yourself feel obligated for that.  You shouldn’t—”

 

He pauses, narrowing his eyes, body taut at the obscure presence a delicate brush at the corner of his mind, the tendrils faint of an acute sensation not quite strange but neither wholly unrecognisable.

 

So far, he’s come across very few people who’ve been able to mask their presence from him, namely his brother and his parents, alongside Minato and Kushina, which doesn’t mean there aren’t others out there, but met with an intentionally muddled energy signature, in this situation, it’s worth noting that Itachi is one of those people who have the ability to completely elude him.

 

Unfolding his legs, he begins to push himself up from the floor, gritting his teeth at the haggard noise from his own laboured breathing.  An unexpected vertigo causes him to lurch sideways, but he breaks his would be fall with a hand against the wall that feels too cool beneath his fingers, standing himself upright when he hears Juugo shift behind him.

 

He placates Juugo with an arm outstretched, motioning for Juugo to stay behind him.  “Wait here.”

 

Footfalls resonate through the long corridor, settling in the cell.

 

Beside him, Juugo stiffens.  “I should come with you.”

 

Only vaguely does it register in his mind the arrant difference in height as Juugo towers over him, reminded of the yellow-eyed Juugo who effortlessly tore apart a massive dunemite twice his size with no more than his bare hands, a sight that brought him witness to the undercurrents of a tumultuous rage reeling beneath the surface of a docile personality.

 

He still doesn’t move his arm.  “It’s better if I go.”

 

Not without reluctance, Juugo yields.  Sasuke gives a slight nod, a brief flare of shadow magic augmenting already light steps as he makes his way out of the cell.

 

A bellowed hello is a loud echo in the corridor, louder still the cry of, “ _Is anyone in here?”_ that follows,  and the obnoxious voice that reaches his ears causes him to release the magic shrouding him.

 

The heavy sense of dread that’s been gradually accumulating in his chest begins to ebb.  Simply knowing that Naruto’s okay, knowing that he wasn’t powerless to do _something_.  Unlike the time he wasn’t able to save...

 

Jaw tight, he continues walking, forcing himself to bury the rehashed memories of Shisui’s drowning.

 

If Naruto’s here, Itachi can’t be too far behind.  He wasn’t expecting them to find him so soon, prepared to go searching for them once he figured out where he and Juugo were in relation to the crash site.  Most likely, Itachi and Naruto would have gone there first to retrieve any supplies from the ship; locating the ship was his best chance of running into them, with the least risk of getting lost in the desert, assuming the ship itself wasn’t too far away from where they’d landed.

 

Halfway through the corridor, he stops.

 

Thick jacket draped over his head, peeking into one of the adjoining cells, Naruto steps back with a frustrated sigh, immediately still when he notices him.

 

From what he can tell, Naruto looks fine, a little worse for wear, some kind of tourniquet fastened around his left arm, face smudged with grime, weary from lack of sleep, but Sasuke suspects he doesn’t look that much better.

 

“ _You bastard_.”  Naruto takes long strides, the jacket over his head forgotten, falling to the wayside as he all but runs to close the distance between them.  His hands start to shake, arms forcibly held at his sides, eyes revealing the restraint from an obvious desire to hit him.  “I can’t believe you—”

 

Suddenly, he deflates, glare disappearing with the too pronounced slump of his shoulders.  “Sasuke, you...”

 

He swallows hard, reaching out with a hand that doesn’t reach lingers, hesitant before he lets it fall back to his side.  “But you’re...”

 

Lowering his head, he looks back up, the corners of his mouth pulled into a self-effacing smile that makes him lost, uncharacteristically unsure, as if he’s trying to convince himself that Sasuke’s really there, arms still held against his sides, fingers against his palms curtail an itch to run his hands all over Sasuke in order to mollify the need to simply _touch_ , if only to keep from throwing himself forward and bringing them both crashing to the ground.

 

“...you’re okay.”  He takes a deep breath, releasing an exhale drawn long.  “You’re...okay.”

 

“Still doesn’t excuse the fact you look like shit,” Sasuke says, allowing a small smile to slip through.

 

“Oh, yeah?”  Naruto grins back, broad and unwavering, quickly falling into an ease overlaying the relief in his eyes as he gives Sasuke a light punch on the shoulder.  “You try being stuck in a cave with your brother all night and see if you don’t look like shit the next day.”

 

With a low hum, Sasuke nods, blinking when he recognises his retracted sword tucked into the red bag holstered from Naruto’s shoulders and worn at his side.  “You found it.”

 

“Yeah, Itachi had it.”  Naruto’s upper teeth press down on the corner of his mouth.  “I didn’t use it or anything.  I just...”

 

Eyebrows scrunched, he moves closer, two steps forward, resting his chin on Sasuke’s shoulder.  His voice lowers to a whisper, breath tickling the shell of Sasuke’s ear as the hand reaching behind Sasuke’s back fiddles with the hem of Sasuke’s jacket dusted with a light layer of sand.  “You don’t look so hot.  You sure you’re okay?”

 

“Are you?”  Sasuke murmurs, absently reaching with his left hand to pull on the outdated dog tags at the end of the ball chain hanging from around Naruto’s neck.

 

Though he personally thinks them more practical, the tags themselves don’t circulate much use anymore.  Most people who wear them do so out of sentiment for the old ways, using the tags as a kind of rebellious statement against society’s overdependence on technology, but Naruto claims wearing dog tags makes him look cool.

 

Closing his eyes, slowly, he breathes in then breathes out, unconsciously leaning into the weight solid against him.  If Naruto notices him shifting a little closer, he doesn’t say anything about it.

 

“Yeah, I’m good.  My arm’s still a little achy, but it’s like it didn’t even happen.”  Naruto pauses, quiet for a moment held too long, embrace uncomfortable too stiff, seemingly caught in some kind of stupor, until his hold around Sasuke becomes tighter.

 

“I was mad at you at first, you know,” he says.  “Really mad.  For acting so stupid, risking your life for me like that, but then Itachi knocked some sense into me, so, I, um...thanks.  Not that I won’t kick the crap out of you myself if you ever try that again, but I owe you.  Big time.”

 

Sasuke lets out a light scoff.  “I’d like to see you try anything.  Keep this up, and I’m going to lose track of how many times I’ve had bail your sorry ass out of trouble.”

 

Naruto ducks his head, nuzzling Sasuke’s neck, trying to leave an imprint of a grin against his skin.  “That’s kind of what I’m hoping for.”

 

“Idiot,” Sasuke mutters softly, giving the dog tags a sharp tug that only earns from Naruto a soft laugh.  Rolling his eyes, he lets the dog tags fall from his fingers.

 

“What sort of place is this, anyway?”

 

“A prison.  Obviously.”

 

“Smartass.”  Squeezing Sasuke’s side, Naruto snorts, raising his head.  “Somehow, though,” he says, a quick glance to the emptied cells on either side of them, “I’m starting to get the feeling it’s a little more than that.”

 

“Probably was.  It’s more of a crypt now.”

 

“Whatever you want to call it,” Naruto says, backing away and bending down to pick up his jacket, “this place’s a little too creepy for me.”  He ties the sleeves around his waist.  “I know I’ll feel a lot better when we get out of here.  Should probably find Itachi first, though.”

 

“You lost him.”

 

“Not really.”

 

Sasuke gives him an expectant look.

 

“Kind of.  Sort of.  Maybe.  Well, I think he’s up ahead,” Naruto says, hand scratching the back of his head a clutter of blond strands blotched with spots of blood and dirt.  Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, “Somewhere.”

 

“Yeah.  That’s really helpful.”

 

“I try.”  Naruto shrugs.  “But you know how it is.  Even you have a hard time sensing him when he starts doing the whole shadow technique thing.”

 

“You two split up?”

 

“Only to cover more ground, though.  Once you get down to it, this whole area’s actually pretty big.  Keep going on one giant loop, like a maze.  You just wouldn’t be able to tell by the way we came in.  There was a hidden door behind this really rickety looking outcrop—blink and you miss it—and it was under this huge rock that was completely covered in sand.  But then we found another way in, too, at least two hundred metres from the first entrance, I’m guessing.  Me and Itachi separated there, so we could make our way around to meet back where we started.”

 

“...damn it.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Let’s go.”

 

“Hey, where’re you—”

 

“Come on.”  Pulling away from the hand gripping his wrist, Sasuke runs back down the corridor.  He doesn’t bother to check to see if Naruto’s following him, instead quickening his pace to reach Juugo before his brother did.

 

...

 

It can’t take much more than a minute to reach Juugo, two at most, yet the seemingly long trek feels longer than Sasuke anticipates despite every step fast and faster one foot in front of the other.

 

Assuaging his unease, standing idle where right he left him, Juugo looks up at his hurried approach, in his eyes a wavering emotion Sasuke doesn’t want to put a name to.

 

As soon as he enters the cell, however, beneath the threshold he stills at the fleeting brush of shadow magic.  It takes him by surprise, abnormally cold, this almost void sensation he’s never felt from his brother before, yet unlike his misgivings about the magic from Juugo’s collar, because he knows it’s Itachi, the magic remains reassuring in its familiarity.

 

His eyes dart behind Juugo, to the far left corner of the cell where the tattered old quilt lies, but it’s a futile search for Itachi’s presence too well cloaked in the darkness.  Admittedly, this is a part of Itachi’s assiduous nature he’s rarely seen, the more militant side of his brother notoriously rumoured to be opportunely shrewd, if not wholly unforgiving on the field.  For now, he knows Itachi is simply observing, lying in wait until he deems it necessary to intervene.

 

Unaware of Itachi, brow furrowed, Juugo takes a step forward.  “Sasuke, are you—”

 

A steady rhythm of rapid footfalls cuts sharp through Juugo’s voice, and Sasuke finds himself being yanked back, before he can even process the abruptness of the movement the material of his jacket seized by Naruto suddenly standing in front of him.

 

There’s an immediate shift of the air from the floor.  A low torrent flares around Naruto.  The air gathering from underneath his boots quickly swells with a muted rumble, enclosing them in a shallow contour that shoots up from the floor.

 

In a violent surge of noise it rises.  Louder and louder, ricocheting off the walls, a piercing roar becomes the effect of a dissonant whirl at Naruto’s command, surrounding them normally tranquil currents now rapid winds that easily had the potential to carve through flesh and bone.

 

But the display’s over in a matter of seconds.  After the initial stage of formation, gradually, comparatively quiet, the barrier lapses into a low effervescent hum that settles closer to the floor.

 

The resulting displacement of air whips across his face, stinging his eyes, and Sasuke grits his teeth, berating his carelessness because it’s his own damn fault for not telling Naruto about Juugo beforehand.  “He’s not a threat, so back off.  Now.”

 

Naruto ignores him.  He plants his feet on the floor, the toe of one foot shuffling back a little to take on a slightly wider stance.  Right hand held steady at his side, fingers outspread curving upward, in his palm a small whorl begins to take shape, a mass of volatile magic scarcely contained in a sphere progressively growing in size.

 

A visible tension creeps into Juugo’s frame.  Tiny flecks of yellow seep into darkening pupils, more than apparent enough to keep an already highly alert Naruto on edge, yet for Juugo’s previous assertion that he was a calming presence, Naruto’s reaction aside, even if Juugo feels indebted to him now, Sasuke can’t quite pinpoint what exactly about Naruto could trigger the very same mindless rage that hadn’t had a sway on Juugo while they were alone.

 

Granted, he hasn’t known Juugo long, and for a brief moment he wonders if it has anything to do with Juugo’s ability to sense auras, if he could possibly sense Kyuubi sealed inside of Naruto, but whatever the case may be, intuition tells him it’s more than simply Juugo’s concern for the state of his well-being.

 

Not that Naruto’s refusal to listen is doing anything other than working to escalate a precarious situation further.

 

“Stop trying to provoke him.  He won’t do anything unless you provoke him.”

 

Resolute, Naruto remains tight-lipped, keeping Sasuke behind him and away from Juugo’s line of sight.

 

“ _Stand down_.”

 

The resistance Sasuke expects.  The hand taut gripping tight enough that through his jacket he can feel the depressions from Naruto’s fingers sinking into his skin.  It takes a considerable amount of control to sustain the magic needed for an energy field on this scale, more so for one constructed from wind magic.  With Naruto’s seemingly endless reserves, a testament to how powerful Naruto actually is, an improper release would set off a backlash destructive enough to cause the entire structure to collapse and bury them alive.

 

No, it’s the cool, sanctimonious tone of Naruto’s voice that ultimately pisses him off.

 

“...you’re not even military.”

 

“Don’t you dare start with that civilian shit again.”

 

It’s been an unremitting assumption made too often by those around him, that he’s someone who needs to protected, that despite his abilities he still isn’t capable of taking care of himself, but it’s always been an assumption Naruto would never think to make.

 

Yet ever since Naruto was accepted into the Academy, that one defining moment the extenuating factor underlining just how different their lives would be, his lack of formal training and field experience have been a source of contention between them, but the hell if he was going to stand back and allow Naruto to treat him like everyone else.

 

Another torrent of wind rises to encircle them, rousing Juugo’s low growl deafening in the cell, and the hand that’s yet to let go of Sasuke’s jacket keeps him close.  “You jackass, _don’t_.”

 

“You know why I can’t.”

 

Sasuke clenches his fist, tongue pressed hard against the back of his teeth in a failed attempt to temper his increasing agitation.  As often as Naruto liked to invocate living by his own personal code of conduct, motivated by his own sense of morality, there’s something to be said about how often he also liked to choose times like these to abide by protocol.

 

But he knows exactly what this is.  It’s a diversionary tactic.  It’s Itachi’s way of assessing Juugo.  Purposely goading him, it’s Itachi using Naruto to gauge the extent of the kind of threat Juugo may pose.

 

It’s the only reason his brother hasn’t decided to intervene until now.

 

“Stand down, Uzumaki.”

 

This time Naruto does so without hesitation.  Hovering above his palm, the dense sphere of magic is immediately dispelled.  The barrier erected around them slowly begins to disperse, a sharp whish of air that rises and falls, reduced to a gentle breeze harmless at Naruto’s feet until it dissolves completely.

 

But he doesn’t do it because of Sasuke.

 

Beneath the veneer of shadow magic, with light steps taken few that make little sound, Itachi emerges from the darkness once obscuring him from view.  He disregards a startled Juugo for the moment, deceptively ignorant of Juugo’s stiff posture, nonchalant yet still poised to draw the sword behind his back should the occasion arise.

 

At a calculated vantage point, he stands with his back to the wall, distancing himself halfway between Naruto and Juugo.  Overlooking Sasuke, he gives Naruto a nearly imperceptible nod.

 

Fingers digging into his palms, arms too rigid at his sides, from beneath his breath Sasuke nearly scowls, irritated at them treating him as if he isn’t here, as if he can’t take care himself without being under some kind of supervision—never mind the fact he has the magic to kill another person with a mere touch of his hand against skin—but he releases the frustration with a sigh, turning his gaze to a red-eyed Juugo still unsure, a deferential Juugo who looks to him for guidance with a far too implicit trust, because this is neither the time nor place to vent.

 

He steps out from behind Naruto, doing well to ignore the hand that finally lets him go.  “It’s fine, Juugo.  They’re the ones who came with me.”

 

The tension in his body notably absent, breathing in deeply and allowing his shoulders to relax, Juugo looks between Itachi and Naruto.  “Forgive me.  I have no hostile intentions.  I only wish to ensure Sasuke’s safety.”

 

Naruto’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline.  “Something you might want to share with the rest of the class?” he says, watching Sasuke from the corner of his eye, “because last I heard, whenever you’re lost in the middle of Bum Fuck, Nowhere, the first thing you _don’t_ do is—”

 

“I owe Juugo my life.”

 

Itachi narrows his eyes, resorting to their native Japanese.  “Explain,” he says, disturbingly calm, voice low tinged with a quiet disapproval.

 

Barely, Sasuke resists the urge to flinch beneath the intensity of his brother’s attentive gaze.  For Juugo’s sake, however, he responds in English, because although Japanese is still preferred in Sector 118, variations of the English standard, including Juugo’s dialect, are more commonly used.

 

“Juugo found me in the desert and brought me here.  Instead of leaving me out there to die, he risked his own life to take care of mine.  He saved me.”

 

He decides to leave out the incident with the collar for the time being, not quite dismissing Itachi’s gaze eyeing the light bruising still around Juugo’s neck, but he neither wants nor needs to be the centre of any more of his brother’s or Naruto’s highly discriminate concern.  That’s not what they have to focus on now.

 

“More importantly,” he adds, “Juugo’s crossed paths with Orochimaru.  And he may be able to provide inculpatory evidence against him.”

 

It’s enough to pique Itachi’s curiosity, a near immaterial flicker of interest in dark eyes still circumspect on the subject matter of what to do with Juugo.  Nonetheless, it’s an interest garnered in Sasuke’s favour.  One he’ll willingly take.

 

“Even if we are close to Hanggai territory, the Federation making camp on a tiny wasteland planet like this,” Naruto says in English, then switching over to Japanese, “how do you know this Juugo guy isn’t working for Orochimaru?”  Gesturing with a slight motion of his head towards Juugo, he challenges Sasuke with a critical stare.  “That this isn’t all part of some scheme for that snake to get his hands on you, huh?”

 

“Because I do,” Sasuke says, leaving no room for question.  It’s not his place to tell Juugo’s life story.

 

Aloof, Itachi leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest.  He lowers his head, closing his eyes, shoulders slightly hunched forward, but he doesn’t say anything.

 

“Eh, your word over his.”  Apart from a dithering certainty, Naruto seems easily enough appeased, although Sasuke will grudgingly admit it probably has more to do with Itachi’s presence than his own sentiment towards Juugo.  “I’ll take it.”

 

“This Orochimaru,” Juugo says, somewhat tentative, speaking up after receiving a slight nod from Sasuke, “my people called him the Snake Charmer.  He and the Masked Men raided our villages and enslaved us.  They plagued our lands for many years.  They’re the cause of the devastation you’ve seen.  Their pillaging has decimated my people and turned my home into a desolate wasteland.  The Barrah I know is no longer as it once was.”

 

“Oh, I, uh...”  Chastised, at a loss for words, Naruto drops his head, staring at the floor.  He licks his lips as he looks up, stammering out an apology in English.  “Sorry.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t mean to—”

 

“There’s little that can be done to ease past grievances, but if your goal is to prevent the Snake Charmer from causing others the same suffering he’s brought upon me, as I told Sasuke, I only seek to help.”

 

Shifting against the wall, Itachi raises his head.

 

Sasuke meets his hardened gaze, from his peripheral mindful of the other two pairs of eyes watching him, but it’s only his brother he sees, feels suddenly sweep over him this abject sensation of cold, a discrete cold festering inside him like phantom remnants of the magic he couldn’t identify from Juugo’s collar, and he finds himself forcibly willing down a burgeoning sense of foreboding staring into the abyss of dark eyes so familiar to his own.

 

“Well...”  Naruto clears his throat, antsy, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other.  “I guess that answers the question of whose side you’re on.”

 

Juugo remains quiet.

 

Itachi’s gaze doesn’t waver.

 

Suppressing a gnawing discomfort, Sasuke addresses him in Japanese, confirming his brother’s wordless suspicion regarding Juugo’s knowledge of the language.  “Juugo’s asked to come with me.”

 

He’s careful to keep his voice neutral, not wanting his perceived empathy to be seen as a weakness.  It’s been used against him too many times before, the same pitiable justification of not being able to control his emotions because he feels too much, used over and over again to discount what little say he does have in his life, but it’s not empathy that’s making him feel so adamant about Juugo.  It can’t be.  Not this time.

 

“With us.”

 

No longer leaned against the wall, arms held still at his sides, Itachi takes a single step forward.  “That’s not your decision to make.”

 

“I have no intention of—”

 

“It’s not your decision to make.”

 

“We don’t have much of a choice.  Not if you plan on getting out of this place any time soon.  He can help us.  And he already knows about me, about my magic, so the only viable recourse is to—”

 

“Are you crazy?”  The accusation is an angry hiss, and Naruto reaches for the sleeve of Sasuke’s jacket gathered in his hand stiff balled into a fist.  “Putting yourself out there like that, might as well start wearing a homing beacon, or get a tattoo on your forehead that says ‘fair game’ and call it a day.  You _know_ you’re not supposed to—”

 

“I didn’t tell Juugo anything.”  Sasuke forces the words through clenched teeth, ripping his arm from Naruto’s grip without breaking his brother’s gaze.  “But I am vouching for him.”

 

Mouth drawn in a line tight, he breathes in.  With a soft exhale slow, he tries to emulate his brother’s expression, controlled, unyielding.  “I’m requesting parley on his behalf.”

 

Itachi doesn’t even pause to consider it.  “Request denied.”

 

It shouldn’t surprise him.  In times like these, when each day fewer and fewer people could be trusted, especially where his safety’s concerned, he already knows his brother could be incredibly hidebound, in some ways knows to expect it by now, and yet Sasuke bristles all the same, because he’s not some stupid naive kid who doesn’t understand anything about the world around him.

 

Forsaking Juugo here would be a death sentence.

 

“You can’t deny him that.  He’s lost his people, his way of life.  He’s been forced to watch everything die around him.  This prison is all he has left.  This crypt he’s been living in— _this_ is what he calls home now.  He can’t even remember how long he’s been trapped here, but he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.  He doesn’t have anyone to turn to.”

 

“...alone in a creepy place like this,” Naruto says, voice soft barely a whisper, sparing a quick glance at Juugo before turning pensive eyes on Itachi.  “If he’s been stuck here for that long, and Orochimaru really is behind all those things, then maybe he isn’t...”

 

Behind his back, Sasuke feels fingers discreet sneak beneath the hem of his jacket, slip beneath his shirt, the soothing warmth from Naruto’s hand a gentle pressure against his skin, and he heaves a sigh at the grounding touch that steals away the cold.

 

He knows Naruto won’t directly defy Itachi’s orders.  As familiar as Naruto is with Itachi, Itachi is still his CO, and Sasuke wouldn’t ask him to overstep whatever boundaries they have between them.  At the very least, though, he can be appreciative Juugo’s situation appeals to Naruto’s sympathetic nature.

 

Appealing to Itachi, however...

 

“I won’t leave him here.  He’s the last of his kind.  I can’t—”

 

“That’s enough, Sasuke.”

 

“But Nii-san—”

 

“He’s not my priority.  You are.  Don’t let your empathy delude—”

 

“Stop making everything about me.  This isn’t about me.  It’s about Juugo.  I don’t even know how he’s managed to stay alive down here for so long, but—”

 

“The matter isn’t up for discussion.”  Yet to raise his voice, Itachi’s maintains his infuriating calm, narrowed eyes stern with an unrelenting scrutiny Sasuke doesn’t shy away from.  “My obligations lie within the safety and continued survival of this crew.  As your commanding officer, I —”

 

“Juugo will die if we leave him here, _Admiral_.  As the commanding officer, you didn’t find me.  As my commanding officer, you weren’t there.  Juugo found me.  Juugo was there.  He’s the one who...”

 

It’s a low blow, childish even, and Sasuke knows it.  Yet he pretends he doesn’t see the momentary hurt breaching the apathy in dark eyes, ignores Naruto’s soundless warning the tightening grip from the hand that stilled resting against his hip, but he can’t leave Juugo.  Not like he was forced to leave Shisui at the river that day, when the arms seized around him pried him from Shisui’s lifeless body he was trying to save.

 

Despite the fact he’d almost killed himself in the process, however futile his attempt to bring Shisui back to life, an irrational part of him—that helpless eight year old sentenced to watch his cousin die—still doesn’t forgive Itachi for interfering, but the Admiral once said he trusted his judgement.

 

Right now, he needs his brother to prove it.

 

“...Juugo’s the one who saved me when you couldn’t.”  He can only hope this open display of defiance doesn’t come back to bite him.  “Sir.”

 

Persuaded for now, beneath the guise of a low grunt, Itachi’s concedes, but the gesture’s more than enough for Sasuke to have the courtesy to look away first.

 

At the very least, this is his brother humouring him, because if Itachi truly believed Juugo was too great a risk to be kept alive, there’d be little Sasuke could do to convince him otherwise.

 

“And for that I’m grateful.”  Impassive, if not brisk, Itachi acknowledges Juugo with a slight bow of his head, gaze steadfast held high never leaving Juugo’s.  “Thank you.  For taking care of Sasuke.”

 

Somewhat discomfited by the gratitude, almost as if he couldn’t understand why Itachi would thank him, Juugo returns Itachi’s bow with a much lower one of his own.  When he raises his head, it’s to reveal a self-effacing smile that doesn’t do much to diffuse the standing tension.  “I apologise.  If I’d known my presence would cause such undue strife, I wouldn’t have—”

 

“Nah, they’ll get over it.  They act like that all the time.”  Naruto waves away Juugo’s concern with an errant hand that barely misses hitting Sasuke’s cheek.  “With how close they are, though,” he adds, through a conspiring whisper too loud to really be considered a whisper, “you’d actually think the two of them were—”

 

“Shut it.”  With a half-hearted shove against Naruto’s shoulder, Sasuke tries to shrug him off.  “I’m not forgiving you for that crap you pulled on me.”

 

Not deterred, unsurprisingly, Naruto doesn’t leave him alone, retaliating with an apologetic squeeze light Sasuke doesn’t necessarily object to.  “Is it okay to introduce ourselves yet?  Because things tend to go a lot easier in this kind of atmosphere when names are used,” he says, looking to Itachi for an approval he doesn’t even wait for.

 

“Uzumaki Naruto.”  His mouth curves into an overbearing, far too cheerful, grin, hand falling away from Sasuke’s back as he raises the other to give Juugo a thumbs-up.  “If you haven’t heard of me before, you’ll definitely remember me now.”

 

“Uchiha Itachi,” is Itachi’s contribution, curt yet still polite despite the deliberate show of distance driven by his formality.

 

A little more at ease, Juugo makes another attempt at a smile.  “The name Juugo is all I’ve known, the only name I’ve been called, yet only one of many that have been given to me.”

 

“Now that the hard part’s out of the way,” Naruto says, “do you listen to yourself when you talk?  Because you really do speak kind of funny.”  He squints at Juugo.  “I mean, I don’t know much about your home or your people—nothing, really—but just what kind of guy are you?”

 

Sasuke’s elbow jabs Naruto in the side.

 

“Hey, what was that for?  I was just asking a question.  The guy’s seriously starting to sound like your Shadow Number Two right now, and if we’re going to be stuck here for a while, the last thing we need is another Neji tagging along.”

 

“You don’t just ask people things like that.”

 

“An old soul, my father would call me,” Juugo says.  “An old soul forever destined to wander through time among the stars in the bed of the Unreachable Sky.”

 

“Hmm.”  Naruto pauses, expression thoughtful, chin held high between a forefinger and thumb.  “Okay, look, as deeply insightful as all of that really does sound, there is nothing about what you just said that makes any kind of sense to me.  At all.”

 

There’s a kind amusement in Juugo’s eyes.  “Much of what we don’t understand is already the answer to a question we’ve yet to ask.”

 

“You two,” Naruto says, pointing between Itachi and Juugo.  “You two would probably get along a little too well.  Stay away from each other.”  In the wake of another silence, his attempt to lighten the mood finally falls short.  Sober, with a heavy sigh, he turns to Itachi, raising his elbow to rest comfortably on Sasuke’s shoulder.  “So what do we do now?”

 

“Return to the ship,” Itachi says.  “Salvage what we can before dark.”

 

“It’s only a few klicks back,” Naruto says, answering the unspoken question in Sasuke’s eyes.  “Passed it on the way here looking for you.  The dunemite didn’t do that much damage to the hull.  I think.  Not for such a small ship being a glorified escape pod, anyway.

 

“Then again, I didn’t have time to get a good look at the combustion engine or the propulsion system, so I don’t know how long it’ll take to get her to fly again.  But I should be able to scrape up something that’ll at least get us to the port outside Jolenai.”

 

Breathing out, Sasuke closes his eyes for a moment, trying not to lean against Naruto more than he already is.  Adrenaline wearing off, the overuse of his magic in such a short time span is finally starting to catch up with him, and he opens his eyes, blinking away a passing bout of fatigue.

 

After healing Naruto’s arm, if he hadn’t tried to remove Juugo’s collar, he probably wouldn’t feel this drained, but he’s not so inept that he can’t use his magic to help jumpstart the ship’s physical repairs.  “I’ll help with the—”

 

“No.”

 

Ready to argue, a retort sharp on the tip of his tongue at Itachi’s outright refusal, Sasuke purses his lips instead.  He may not have Naruto’s stamina when it comes to magic, but he knows his own limitations.  He’s pushed past much worse than this.  After countless hours spent training under his own programme in the simulation chamber, he’s well aware of what he can and can’t do.

 

Yet he doesn’t want to upset his brother any further.  He’s tested Itachi’s patience enough as it is, and while Itachi is better at concealing his emotions than most, to the point where he’s even difficult for Sasuke to read despite his high level of empathy, from the moment they were separated during the storm, it’s a given that Itachi’s been worried.

 

But he’s still going to contribute _something_.

 

“The Masked Men you mentioned before,” he says to Juugo, remembering their earlier conversation, “is there a chance they left any of their technology behind?  I know they had to have some kind of power source.  Probably a few storage facilities.  Maybe weapons, too.  Whatever you can think of, we can always use the extra supplies.”

 

“There’s a dale a day and a half’s walk beyond the prison,” Juugo says.  “The river no longer sustains life as it used to, but those of my people who were enslaved for labour would mine the surrounding mountains for metallic stone.”

 

“Mostly likely for a rare ore mineral,” Itachi says.  “Something delicate enough that it can only be mined by physical means, in order to preserve specific natural properties during the annealing process.”

 

Sasuke looks to Naruto with a slight frown.  “The summit we went to in March last year, remember that Kabuto guy who presented the proposal to push more experimental development with Magdunium alloy.”

 

“But he was shot down, wasn’t he?”

 

“Because the production costs are too high,” Itachi says.  “It’s an alloy contingent upon exceedingly precise and difficult to maintain parameters.  The resources needed simply aren’t readily available.  And due to the largely diminutive turnover, it presents too many legal hurdles to obtain mining permits that would allow for such invasive procedures.”

 

“We didn’t even know Barrah existed yesterday,” Sasuke says.  “It’s not even in the navigation libraries.  The idea of an uncharted planet offering no regulations for a resource like Magdun, something that could be turned into a near indestructible alloy, that’s enough incentive.”

 

“Might be,” Naruto muses aloud.  “Only reason I can think anyone would go through the trouble of mining when there’re a lot of easier metals to get your hands on.  Especially with all the technology out there for it.”  He turns to Juugo.  “The metal you mined, do you know where it was taken?”

 

“On the other side of the dale, we were told to dig a basin.  There we were forced to take those of my people who didn’t survive the Snake Charmer’s experiments, and there we would pile the bodies of the dead.  Past that basin, I believe, is where the metallic stone was taken.”

 

Itachi’s features harden.

 

“That you can even say something like that with a straight face...”  Slightly pale, Naruto swallows.  “...shit.”

 

Sasuke holds Juugo’s gaze, a quiet understanding passing between them.  Alone, Juugo’s spent years faced with the deaths of his people.  But as he said, he’s come to terms with his past, learned to make peace with himself, and Sasuke won’t belittle his suffering with something as meaningless as pity.

 

“Although my memory is vague,” Juugo says, “I can still lead you there, should you wish to go, now that Sasuke has freed me from the curse of the collar that once held me captive.”

 

Again, Itachi glances at Juugo’s neck, then turns to Sasuke, a silent reprimand in his eyes the precursor to an inevitable discussion in the near future.

 

Slightly subdued, Sasuke ignores Naruto’s curious gaze.

 

“We’re under a time constraint, so we’ll have to act quickly.”

 

“That unflagged ship that intercepted us,” Naruto says, “you think it followed us all the way out here?  I mean, we didn’t find any wreckage or debris.  Not within a five kilo radius at least, so even if it landed here, after that hit you gave them, I doubt there’d be any survivors.”

 

“I won’t risk dismissing the possibility.  In light of the situation, there may still be a chance reinforcements will be sent after us.”

 

“It was a routine stop at an independent fuel port,” Sasuke says.  “We were in neutral territory.  Flying under diplomatic immunity.  Whoever they were, why would they come after us at all?”

 

“Won’t have to if another dunemite gets to us first,” Naruto mutters.  “...damn overgrown scorpions.”

 

Itachi doesn’t entertain Naruto’s grumbling.  “As I said, returning to the ship is our first priority,” he says.  “After a more thorough analysis, depending on the extent of the damage and what can be salvaged, whatever gear and provisions we can afford to carry, we’ll head back to the cave.  That’ll serve as our primary site.

 

“Sasuke, I’m assuming your communicator is inoperable.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Uzumaki.”

 

Pulling himself away from Sasuke, Naruto stands up straight.

 

“We only have two working communicators.  You have one, and I have the other.  They will be on at all times.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“When we return from the ship, by the end of the night I want a finished preliminary report, including a full visual schematic on your PCD, a detailed catalogue of any projected inventory, and an ETC on the repairs.

 

“Sir.”

 

“Juugo and I will move out for recon before dawn.”  Pausing, Itachi glances at Juugo, receiving a slight nod in agreement.  “We’ll head for the mines and map out the general vicinity on the PNS.  It’ll take no more than four days.  In the duration, you’ll remain here with Sasuke.”

 

With a low grunt, Naruto gives him a firm nod.

 

“But you’ll need me to—”

 

“I’m not giving you a choice, Sasuke.”

 

Startled, Sasuke blinks at the unexpectedly sharp tone.

 

Itachi looks back to Naruto.  “While I’m gone, I expect you to handle the ship’s repairs as much as you’re able and perform a comprehensive evaluation of the prison.  Understood?”

 

“Got it.”  Naruto lets out an exaggerated sigh, stance more at ease as he turns to Sasuke.  “And I thought you were the demanding one,” he teases, stretched across his face a grin wide that immediately falters then disappears.  “Sasuke?”

 

Sasuke closes his eyes.  Breathing in.  Breathing out.  “...it’s nothing, Naruto.”

 

Naruto sighs.  “Okay, then.  Great.”  He brings his hands together with a loud clap.  “Who’s up for another desert tour in the hot sun?”  Voice wry, he adds, “Maybe if we pray together hard enough, we’ll run into some kind of oasis before it gets too dark.”

 

Opening his eyes, Sasuke watches Naruto walk towards Juugo, still beneath his brother’s pervasive gaze that begins to wither his resolve.

 

“Has anybody told you how tall you are?”  Too eager, maybe even overcompensating, Naruto delves into largely one-sided small talk, leaving a bemused Juugo flustered by the earnest attention.  “Because you are a tall guy,” he says, as they pass Sasuke and Itachi.  “A really tall guy.”

 

Eventually, gradually, in the background his voice starts to fade, and with it he manages to lure Juugo out of the cell.

 

Yet instead of following, Sasuke stays.

 

And then it’s just them.

 

Steps light a fluid, contentious motion bring Itachi close, and suddenly his brother’s an immovable force before him.

 

Awkward in the silence heavy between them, his hands clutch at the thick material keeping him warm, yet caught between his fingers and his palms, the cuffs of his sleeves too long only serve to remind him whose jacket he’s wearing.

 

“Itachi, I...”

 

“You’ll answer my questions later.”

 

He stalls.  Waiting for something he doesn’t know, hazy in the back of his mind a tenuous expectation he can’t quite place, he stares at the long tear running across Itachi’s sleeveless shirt, a tapering line spanning down the length of Itachi’s torso clad in black.  His eyes linger too long on his brother’s arms bare littered with tiny little scratches he almost reaches out to touch, the red marks thin too many he almost reaches with his hands to heal.  “But Nii-san—”

 

“Walk ahead of me, Sasuke.”

 

The yearning gone, displaced by a disappointment too poignant, terse, Sasuke turns on his heel with a low scowl.  The cuffs of his sleeves are pulled taut over his fingers, shrouding his hands as he walks ahead, as he tries to leave behind that unreadable expression his brother won’t let him escape.

 

And that was that.


	3. Dirty Harry III: Faust

“Yeah, we’re heading out now.”  Frowning, Naruto reaches for the small receiver nestled behind his ear, giving it a few quick taps.  “Damn sand keeps getting all over the place.  Almost makes me miss the old training regs.  At least nothing could get—”

 

Sasuke spares a glance behind him, Naruto not quite walking beside him.  There’s enough space between them to ensure he’s walking ahead, a deliberate position that makes it easier for Naruto to act at a moment’s notice.  It’s a tactical decision on Naruto’s part, an attempt to provide some semblance of cover despite the fact that if anyone were to attack them, which Itachi (and Naruto, not surprisingly, by extension) believes is only inevitable; left this exposed travelling in the middle of an open desert would pretty much mean they’re SOL.

 

He’s too tired to fight Naruto about it, though, still trying to recuperate from the past few days, instead gleaning what he can from listening to Naruto’s conversation with Itachi, trying to stave off a mounting irritation at the fact he’s being overlooked again.

 

It’s been a regular occurrence for some time now, his brother and best friend-cum-whatever their relationship makes them now, speaking over him as if he isn’t there, treating him as if he couldn’t possibly understand how the world exists outside the base.  Trying to convince them he knows more than they want to believe would be an exercise in futility.

 

It didn’t bother him so much when he was younger, being told certain things were beyond him, when both he and Naruto could be easily placated with simple explanations that assured them it was okay not to understand.  Except now that once constant only pertains to him, only continues to drive home how much different his and Naruto’s lives have become.

 

All those nights he and Naruto spent learning everything they could about being a pilot, helping Naruto study when it came to the subjects it sometimes took him a little longer to understand, teasing him over his inability not to ramble despite passing his first field communications test—it wasn’t entirely altruistic, somewhat of an attempt to live vicariously through Naruto.

 

Naruto sniffs, absently tugging on the collar of his black t-shirt, jostling the sleek, black goggles hanging from around his neck.  “And that’s the real problem.  Probably could get away with the damage to the hull.”

 

Yet despite the more obvious differences further branding who they’ve become, there are still parts of Naruto, things about him fundamental to person he is that haven’t changed at all.

 

“It’s because I like having pockets,” Naruto once said a few days after returning from his first training mission, with the utmost seriousness, placing both hands on Sasuke’s shoulders, when Sasuke had asked about the baggy cargo pants he practically lived in outside the Academy; it made Naruto seem incredibly flashy at times, even without that loud orange jacket, dressed up in bright blues and reds, and yet somehow it still seemed fitting, Naruto’s self-declared interpretation of what made an acceptable dress code.

 

How Naruto was even able to find regulation clothes in those colours, he still doesn’t know.

 

“And it’s really, really important to have pockets.  Seriously.”

 

“Seriously, Itachi,” Naruto continues, faced scrunched in annoyance, tapping again on his earpiece.  “I really do think we lucked out there.

 

“But even when everything’s back online, with a ship like that, who knows how sensitive the equipment is.  It’s not enough to just get it up and running.  Got to make sure it can hold out long enough to get us out of here, too.

 

“I mean, it’s enough of a pain that we get shot down and stranded on a desert planet.  So, it only makes sense we somehow ended up crash landing in quicksand, right.  Why else wouldn’t we?”

 

It’s not as bad as Naruto’s making it out to be.  Admittedly, the ship’s protruding from the base of a considerably tall star dune, precariously close to a small basin, surrounded by even taller dunes leading into vast stretches of rippled white sand, offering only just glimpses of sparse vegetation visible in the very far off distance.  At least it’s not dry quicksand, which probably explains whatever underground water source that’s been sustaining Juugo in the prison all this time.

 

The storm did make it worse, though, moving sand to cover a good portion of the ship and further substantiating Naruto’s concerns about granules finding their way into the more sensitive parts of the ship, possible engine ingestion, among a potential slew of electronic problems, never mind the small number of internal systems currently exposed due to the relatively minor damage done to the hull.

 

The ship still wasn’t able to perform an accurate self-diagnostic, let alone connect to Naruto’s PCD, not when the power kept cutting off mid-start.  With so many things seemingly gone wrong, they hadn’t been able to assess much of anything, and could only throw back and forth ideas to see who could come up with the best (what Naruto aptly called) scientific wild-ass guess.

 

“But other than that one tiny little clusterfuck,” Naruto says, “everything else checks out for now.”

                                                                                                                                                             

Really, calling the situation a clusterfuck is well above putting it lightly, but it’s still a little weird hearing Naruto speak to Itachi like that, maybe more so in the sense that Itachi allows Naruto to speak to him so casually, despite knowing Naruto is notorious for forgoing formalities with people he’s especially close to.

 

He’s not jealous of their relationship, not so much anymore, because he’s told himself often enough he’s mature enough to accept the fact that Uchiha Itachi’s existence isn’t solely limited to being his older brother.

 

“Not that far off.  Should make it back in an hour or so.”

 

Sighing, Sasuke counts the breaths shallow that follow coming out a little more uneven, a little more slow.  He removes the hood from over his head, welcoming the cool respite of a light breeze after prolonged exposure to the heat, but he starts to stray behind a little,lingers between steps a second too long.

 

It’s one of those times he doesn’t mind being overlooked, would rather be wholly unnoticed than the single focus of an overbearing concern.

 

Unfortunately, Naruto could be the worst kind of inopportunely attentive.

 

“Before it gets too dark,” Naruto says, slowing down to take up the slight variance in pace, keeping Sasuke in his immediate line of sight.  “Or too cold.”

 

He blocks from his peripheral Naruto’s concerned frown, evades the arm already reaching out to steady him, and straightens on his own, stepping away from Naruto.

 

He knows he doesn’t have Naruto’s ample reserves, that much he can grudgingly admit, but even after healing Naruto’s arm and the backlash from discharging the corrupted magic imbued in Juugo’s collar, having these recurring bouts of fatigue, he didn’t think the use of his life magic would affect him this much.

 

It’s not that much farther, though.  He just has to wait a little longer for this one to pass, too.

 

“Definitely, yeah.”  Naruto sends him another frown, but doesn’t mention the near fall to Itachi.

 

“Yeah, I will.  Uzumaki out.”  He taps on his earpiece, cutting off the line to Itachi.  With the back of his hand, he wipes at the corner of one eye, pushing further up his forehead a torn piece of cloth he turned into a makeshift sweatband.

 

“Itachi and Juugo are all right,” he says, without Sasuke even having to ask.  “Another storm might be heading our way, but Itachi said it could still change direction, too.  Hard to tell, when most of these winds keep coming from different directions.”

 

“Mm.”

                                                                                                                                                

“…why are you still so tired, Sasuke?”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“No, it’s not nothing.  It’s already been a day.  Shouldn’t you be okay by now?”

 

“Leave it alone, Naruto.”

 

“Whatever happened when you messed with that collar, I know it did something to you, Sasuke.  Don’t tell me it didn’t.  It had to.  With how much you had to keep leaning on me yesterday, it must’ve been really bad for you to still be so—”

 

“I said leave it alone.  I’m fine.”

 

“Yeah, sure.  Of course, you’re fine.  We’re all fine.  Everything’s fine.  Everything’s always fine, and you just—”

 

He already had to deal with getting berated by his brother, being told how foolish he’d been, for yet again putting himself in a vulnerable position: not only releasing Juugo from the collar, but willingly tampering with something that’d had such an adverse effect on him.

 

After hearing it from Itachi, he’s really not in the mood to deal with hearing it from Naruto, too.  Because despite recognising the truth in Itachi words, despite realising the faults in his own actions, it’s still hard to ignore the persistent notion that if their positions were reversed, if it were Naruto instead, his brother would’ve treated Naruto differently.

 

Naruto breathes out, unclenching the fist at his side, purposely trailing behind, in his wake the occasional wisp of wind blotting their footprints with sand.  “Should be good by now,” he says, voice strained to stay even.  With a slight nod, he gestures towards the black canteen shared between them, clipped onto the dark grey belt hanging skewed from around Sasuke’s hips.

 

Sasuke reaches for the soft plastic canteen encased in a matching nylon pouch, to the right of the waist bag with two legs straps secured around his thigh.  He flips open the cap and takes a small sip, shrugging off the aftertaste from the purification tablet Naruto used after refilling canteen at the basin.  He doesn’t close the cap, offering the canteen to Naruto still hovering too close.

 

The slight brush of their hands is a fleeting touch, from Naruto passed along a vehement warmth that does little to undermine the remnants of Itachi’s discrete cold, the worst attempt at being subtle, but when he turns to glance beside him, Naruto’s already looking away.

…

 

For all Naruto’s complaining about being back in the cave again, Sasuke thinks being in a cave is much more preferable to being trapped in an underground crypt.  It’d be somewhat of a disservice to call it a mere cave, though.  It’s actually one of many cave dwellings, part of an extensive and intricate network of tunnels, a good deal of them dug into the cliffside of a gorge, as least forty metres high, some interconnected from above, altogether a seemingly endless maze of rooms carved from hard layers of sculpted, ashen rock—the room they’re in now, one of the more stable ones Itachi had found shelter in after the storm, interestingly enough, there are murals on the wall.

 

The already scarce spread of colour significantly dulled, on the expanse of wall not yet fully eroded, there were a few glyphs he was able to make out, a series of images portraying what looked to be someone manipulating fire magic, an actual depiction of a fire elemental, from a mural on a planet that’s not even charted on their maps.

 

With so much still unknown about the origins of magic users, with no established science behind the biology of magic users, or magic usage in general, all but non-existent any information about life users and what it means to have life magic, it only makes sense, even if only to take his mind off the situation they’re in now, that he’s going to jump on the opportunity to learn more.

 

Although, maybe even more surprising than finding the murals, is how old they seemed.  When he’d tried to describe the atmosphere on Barrah, how it apparently affects his magic, marginally oppressive is what he wanted to say, for lack of a better way to explain it, but old turns out to be more fitting.  Because there really is something old about Barrah, almost saturates it something old enough to feel  ancient, lingers like an uncertainty memory, brings out of him a sort of surreal consciousness that reminds him too strongly of the brief exposure he’s had to Kyuubi’s raw magic.

 

He did ask Juugo about the glyphs.  Not entirely unexpected, Juugo didn’t have the answers he wanted, yet even then the only answer Juugo said he could give was ambiguous at best, if not the basis for the kinds of questions he was having trouble trying to articulate.

 

“Though not the work of the people from my village, this truly is the work of the people of Barrah,” Juugo had said, although with no small amount of awe and an uncomfortably renewed sense of reverence directed towards him.

 

Itachi hadn’t been as approachable, near apathetic despite the brusque nature of his questions, the tension between them heavier still when Itachi walked him to a more isolated dwelling, stood before him impassive, waiting for him to explain the incident surrounding the removal of Juugo’s collar.

 

Naruto’s the one who thought he might be interested in the murals, after tinkering with a circumscribed MDP he’d picked up from the ship yesterday, doing his best to fill the increasingly lengthy periods of silence during the slow four-hour hike from the ship back to the cave, not including the time it took to scale the steep rock face.

 

Sasuke was able to record footage of the mural with the data pad last night, though, earlier this morning jotted down a few notes, alongside the batch of photos he took, before Itachi and Juugo set out for the dale Juugo had mentioned.

 

Sliding a finger across the small screen, he finishes up with his latest revision, while Naruto’s still outside scoping the area begins to look over his notes again, not for the first time since yesterday wondering if this is an instance of him searching too deeply for a connection he simply wants to be there.

 

If the SatCom wasn’t down, he wouldn’t hesitate to send his findings to Tenten.  If the SatCom wasn’t down, they’d probably be off Barrah by now.

 

But if ( _when_ , Naruto likes to keep correcting him) they get back home, he’ll try to cross-reference the mural and what he knows now about Barrah with information from the PDH.  See if he can drag Tenten from the shooting range long enough to make it to the library, although it probably wouldn’t take much to convince her.

 

They’ve known each other for a little over three years, brought together by a shared interest in magic lore; she’d been doing tentative research about it on her own, stemmed from a then growing fascination with the Second Great War—one day, she noticed him in the library, attention caught by the book she’d been searching for stacked high on his table, and simply sat next to him.

 

She’s one of the few friends he hadn’t met through Naruto, one of the few people who hadn’t immediately recognised him as the life user who happened to live on base.  Although she’s not a magic user, she’s a year above Naruto’s graduating class, training to be a weapons technology specialist.  If she hadn’t applied for the Academy, she’d probably be an academic, an archaeologist like her parents were.  That, or a fortune teller.

 

“To be an academic is to be relentless in the pursuit of knowledge, in an essentially dead field,” she’d used to joke in the beginning, more often on those rare days when she suddenly realised she was an orphan at fifteen, remembered that she lost her parents during that disaster in Tollan, because she suddenly couldn’t forget the base wasn’t her first home.

 

“I don’t have magic like some of the other trainees at the Academy, but I wanted to come here because I didn’t want to feel so helpless anymore.  Because I didn’t want someone else to end up like me.  And that’s why I’m still here.  Because I still want to believe I really can make a difference out there.”

 

On those rare days she’d quietly seek him out, unknowingly drawn to him for reasons she wouldn’t understand until he told her later, suddenly, having empathy was something he didn’t mind so much.

 

“But in a world like this, Sasuke, even if it is easier to believe in destiny, to believe we’re greater than what we probably are, wanting to determine our own fate, I think that’s what really makes us stand apart.”

 

“…there’s still time,” he teased, with a light smile she responded to in kind.  “If you change your mind about fortune telling.  I could introduce you to a few people who’d probably do a lot better with it.”

 

“Yeah, I think I’ll leave the politics to you.  But I guess being a fortune teller could work out for me, too, you know.”  She laughed then, grey eyes keen, yet paired with an odd sort of wistful grin.  “One does mean fate after all.  Two is luck,” she said, counting off with her fingers, “and then there’s feng shui.

 

“But if I decide to stay at the Academy, if I keep pushing myself to become even stronger, three years from now, do you think I’ll be old enough to make a difference in the world we live in?”

 

He turns off the MDP and slips it back into his holster bag, fingers running absently along the distressed material.

 

Naruto still hasn’t come back yet, left with only his jacket for extra padding, leaving Sasuke with the emergency blanket; he’s better acclimated to harsher climates than most people, with a naturally higher tolerance to the heat and cold, one of those inherent abilities often blurring the line between what may have been Naruto’s latent potential and the direct effect of Kyuubi’s magic giving him abilities Naruto otherwise wouldn’t have.

 

For as long as Kyuubi’s been sealed inside him, though, it’s a moot point either way.

 

Legs folded underneath him, he shifts beneath the thermal blanket and the frayed quilt Juugo had given him placed over his lap, unable to supress a wide yawn.  They agreed Naruto was going to take first watch, to let him to catch up on sleep.  Or rather Naruto said he was going to take first watch, and Sasuke didn’t have anything productive to add the short-lived conversation.  Still tired and yet too restless to actually get much of anything close to resembling sleep.

 

He hadn’t spent that much time focusing on the possible implications of the mural.  As soon as they returned from the ship, he’d been going over Naruto’s preliminary readings, over and over reviewing the ship’s schematics, hoping to get a better idea of what was wrong through process of elimination.  He was trying to keep himself busy, trying to make himself useful, trying not to think of Itachi.

 

It hasn’t even been a day since Itachi split them up, yet it manages to feel longer after parting on such stilted terms, and the continued separation from his brother doesn’t do much to mitigate a gnawing sense of discomfort, even less after Naruto told him Itachi and Juugo had discovered the unmarked ship that had attacked them.

 

It was a moderate two-person vessel.  The kind not meant to handle atmospheric entry, barely anything left of the charred remains to even remotely suggest the slightest possibility anyone could’ve survived the wreckage, but it hadn’t been enough to nullify whatever initial suspicions Itachi held.  It made them worse.  Although they weren’t any closer to identifying the ship, having affirmation that a small fighter equipped with working weapons was even able to fly in neutral territory didn’t really bode well.

 

He doesn’t want to say he’s worried, but it does bother him, because he knows his brother well enough to know his motivations.  He knows exactly why his brother thought it better to separate them.

 

Itachi could be remarkably intuitive, brutal in his own conviction at times.  While he doesn’t trust Juugo, which, Sasuke will concede, is understandable for someone in Itachi’s position, if the Snake Charmer who did conduct experiments on Juugo and his people is Orochimaru, finding any sort of incriminating evidence against Orochimaru could provide a substantial blow to both Orochimaru’s political clout and the higher-ups who’ve been supporting him financially, especially if Orochimaru has been mining ore to make Magdunium alloy.

 

However, this deliberate separation was more for his and Naruto’s benefit than anything else, to make them less of a target; Itachi wouldn’t take the time to cover his tracks, but he told Naruto to take as many precautions as possible, not wanting them to wander far from the ship or a steady water supply.  Working under the assumption possible pursuers wouldn’t be far behind, however slight the advantage, it was a bid he made to better their odds of escape.

 

Obviously, Itachi knows more than he’s willing to let on, but whether the risks of remaining together as a group outweigh the risks of travelling apart, Sasuke honestly can’t say.

 

“…still pretty quiet.”  The words resonate within the cave, shuffled into light footfalls echoed static, edging closer, and Sasuke looks up at Naruto’s arrival.

 

Naruto stops at the cave entrance, paused beneath the misshapen arched threshold of conglomerate rock.  Loose sediment falls around him and settles among the various pieces of rock spread across the ground.  “You can’t see our stars here.  You can’t see any of the stars from Barrah.  Did you notice that?”  

 

Sasuke can’t say he’d been paying enough attention to notice, really.  It’s a little surprising Naruto did.  Still, it makes some kind of sense, adding more credence to what Juugo said about the Faceless creating a barrier around Barrah.  Legend or not, it’s not unheard of for oral traditions to be based off some aspect of truth.

 

“No moons, either.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“Not being able to see any stars in a place like this, it’s kind of lonely, don’t you think?”  Naruto’s hand stills near the raised collar of his jacket, fingers toying with the zipper pulled all the way up to the top.  Not waiting for an answer, he begins to unzip his jacket.  The zipper stops at his chest, exposing the neckline of a black shirt.  “I wonder how Juugo survived for so long.

 

“By the way,” he adds, stepping away from the threshold and making his way further into cave.  “Itachi said Juugo asked about you again, if you were doing okay.”

 

Sasuke pulls on the cuff of his jacket, watching Naruto bypassing the small fire that brightens the unexpectedly large enclosure.  Situated this deeply within the cave offers a modest protection against the cold, presumably a sort of built-in precaution to the weather conditions at night, a result of the intricate system of tunnels and rooms created by people who may have been Juugo’s ancestors.

 

“I told him and Juugo you said hi.”

 

 “Did you.”

 

Stopped across from him, Naruto sighs, fingers kneading the side of his neck.  “Still no sign of anything from their end, either.”

 

Sasuke yanks on the leg of the blue cargo pantstucked into Naruto’s boots, effectively causing him to stumble.

 

Brought down with a yelp, Naruto lands on his backside, catching himself on the floor with his hands, legs bent, both knees upright, gaze pinned on Sasuke with an annoyed glower.  “What’d you have to go and do that for, huh?”

 

“Give me your hands.”

 

“Why do you need my hands?”  Glower disappeared, Naruto blinks, but he crosses his legs and scoots closer, holding out his hands for Sasuke to take.

 

“Didn’t you have enough room in one of those pockets for a pair of gloves?”

 

“Give me a break, Sasuke.  I thought we’d be cooped up in that fancy resort for the next week.  Not here.  And then I had to pack my suit, the one Dad made me get tailored last month.”  Naruto groans.  “How much you want to bet Mom won’t believe me when I tell her my really nice dress clothes got lost in the crash?”

 

Sasuke responds with a soft hum,motions Naruto closer with a slight tug on Naruto’s left arm.  It’s been two days since they’ve made contact with anyone, since they were scheduled to make their check-in on Nelvana III.  Considering how influential their parents are, though, he doesn’t doubt that their political sway is being used to call in a few favours.

 

The Alliance has probably taken some of sort of initiative, maybe even released a statement, but it’s more likely the Alliance would want to keep his and Naruto’s disappearance under wraps.  Without inflating their importance, simply because who he and Naruto are, even outside politics, they’ve been in the public eye for a while, covered by the media (not seldom enough), especially in his case.  And for them to go missing right before they were supposed to show up at such a critical summit, it looks bad.

 

But if it was only by accident that Itachi even managed to land them on Barrah…

 

 “Shouldn’t you not be doing this right now?”

 

“Nag me later.”  Sasuke ignores Naruto’s frown of disapproval, laying down Naruto’s left hand and holding Naruto’s right hand in both of his own.  “You know doing this doesn’t take that much out of me.”

 

Naruto inhales, releasing a sigh as the cold from his hands is taken away at Sasuke’s touch.  “So you like to keep saying.”

 

“Besides, I haven’t used my magic all day.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.  I know how that goes.”

 

Despite his seemingly outward calm, Naruto’s been projecting loud enough for them both, sharing in a disquiet that hasn’t abated since Itachi and Juugo left.  It’s not excessive, nowhere near the point where it’d affect Sasuke’s empathy, but he still uses the excuse to warm Naruto’s hands as a means to alleviate some of Naruto’s unease.

 

From one magic user to another, especially between those who are close, even the simplest touch can have a calming effect.  With very few people does it work the other way around for him, but his magic tends to have a much more pronounced effect around others, regardless of whether they’re magic users or not.

 

It’s not the same as his Influence, less about inadvertently inducing someone into an intense state of euphoria and more along the lines of being consciously receptive of another person’s emotions.  Naruto’s always been immune to his Influence, anyway.

 

He blinks away the glint of white that begins to edge at his sight, opening his eyes to the small scratch that cuts across the length of Naruto’s palm.  Maybe a scrape from the ship when Naruto had been working on repairs earlier.  His fingers trace over the scratch, following a thin line already beginning to pale, nearly fully healed.  From Naruto’s palm, his hand moves towards the rib-knit cuff of Naruto’s jacket sleeve, carefully pushing back the lightweight material to lie bunched above Naruto’s elbow.

 

He stares at Naruto’s arm, slowly placing his hand over unblemished skin, where the dunemite’s stinger had left a gaping wound, still unable to rid himself of the image of Naruto clutching his arm, still able to hear the terror in Naruto’s agonised screams, because he’d actually felt Naruto _dying_.  Despite Naruto’s own ability to heal, the venom had spread too fast.  He’d already lost too much blood, but Sasuke had kept him alive.  He kept Naruto safe, used his magic to allay Naruto’s pain.  Even after the screaming stopped and Naruto fell unconscious, until the venom was completely gone, he continued to use his magic until he was sure Naruto would be okay.

 

It’d taken a lot out of him, more than he’s willing to acknowledge, never mind openly admit to Naruto, just how much of his life force he’d given in order to save him, because then he’d have to acknowledge just how close he came to losing him.

 

There’s nothing wrong with Naruto’s arm anymore.  Naruto already told him his arm wasn’t giving him any problems, completely healed, as if that encounter with the dunemite never happened, but if he hadn’t been able to reach Naruto in time, if he hadn’t been able to—

 

“What’re you doing?”                                                                                                                

 

His body goes tense at the sharp tone of Naruto’s voice.  He glances down at Naruto’s fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, eyes travelling to the back of Naruto’s left hand, to his arm.  Looking up to meet Naruto’s eyes, his breath catches still.

 

Naruto doesn’t seem to know what to say, either, but he tries for an assuring smile, tries too hard to brush off his own obvious concern behind the implications of what Sasuke had almost done.  “If you keep doing that creepy thing with your eyes, you’re going to make me tell Itachi on you.  And then he’d probably make you start wearing your old gloves again.”

 

The attempt at a joke falls flat.  As Naruto releases his wrist, carefully, Sasuke lowers Naruto’s arm.

 

With a grunt, Naruto pushes up from the ground, uncrossing his legs and making his way closer to the wall, sitting on Sasuke’s right.  He invites himself beneath the small mound of blankets without permission, mindful of Juugo’s quilt, huddling closer, legs outstretched, shoulder to shoulder.

 

He doesn’t shy away for Naruto’s sake, is what he tells himself, because he doesn’t want to believe Naruto made the move intentionally to put his right arm out of sight.

 

“I told you I’m okay, so stop worrying about it already.  We got this.  You and me, whatever happens from now on, we can handle it.”

 

He realises that Naruto’s fine.  In his mind, he can rationalise that it’s because of his life magic that Naruto hadn’t died, yet in this one instance, held under the sway of an innate compulsion in a situation where his life magic shouldn’t even apply, what he’d initially thought a onetime incident healing the bruising around Juugo’s neck, it’s not so much of an accident if it’s twice within two days he used his life magic without meaning to.

 

More so than any type of elemental magic, his life magic has always demanded the least of him, has so many times nearly consumed him, left him so many times feeling helpless, yet pushed him even harder to overcome an ability to heal that didn’t always come to him at will.  In such a short span of time, to see years’ worth of effort begin to fall apart, fraying at the seams, the control he worked so hard towards suddenly such an insignificant thing, he thought he finally grew past this.

 

“Since we’re going to be holed up in here, anyway, you should go ahead and get some sleep.”  Naruto rests his palm over Sasuke’s knee.  “I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn.”

 

His gaze wanders from Naruto’s unyielding stare, to his sword tilted against the wall, blade fully retracted, hilt still specked with blood from the dunemite he’d killed.  “Can’t.”

 

“Try,” Naruto counters.  “If you thought I looked like shit after one night here, it’s still nothing compared to you looking like passing out’s just going to be a matter of time.  And I’m not hauling your disagreeable ass across a desert.”

 

He pauses, brow creased in thought, fingers chasing abstract silhouettes into the side of Sasuke’s leg.  His features ease with a wry snort, as he pulls his hand away.  “Drag you by the arm maybe, but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

 

It’s funny sometimes, how Naruto likes to pretend his uncanny ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat is normal.  Or how firm he is in the belief that being able to sleep like the dead yet being able to wake up alert at almost any noise is part of a practical skill set everyone should have.  But Naruto’s able to stay awake a lot longer, too.  He’s been able to do a lot more things since that training mission he won’t talk about.

 

Something else entirely he doesn’t want to dwell on, so he settles instead into the unobtrusive warmth at his side.  He tries to relax against Naruto, tries to bury a still rising apprehension, falls into the comfortable lull of his magic, allowing it to distract him.

 

He takes his time, raises his arm between them, watching as his magic gathers his hand.  Pulled from the air around him, the beginnings of a tiny mass take shape above his palm, seemingly bound by streaks of shadows folded within a vivid light effacing the fire’s warm glow.

 

It’s one of the earliest tricks he learned to do with his magic.  At its core, it’s a pretty simple technique, part meditation exercise, part childhood diversion.  It’s an outlet for his magic that helped to him better his overall concentration, good for both mental acuity and magical ability, although it hadn’t been his goal to do so at the time.

 

Far less profound, it came out of a desire to emulate the techniques he’d seen Itachi and Naruto practice, techniques he didn’t have the ability to do—when he began trying to teach himself elemental magic on his own, before anyone else knew he was capable of more than just life magic.

 

“Itachi’s right.”  Naruto’s gaze is drawn to the small mass gradually increasing in size, mounting inside spinning winds tempered into the shape of a sphere no larger than Sasuke’s palm.  “You really do use your magic too freely,” is his soft murmur, but he doesn’t look away, almost rapt, because being able to manipulate two elements at once, even for a life user, it really isn’t supposed to be possible.

 

Far from the first time anyone’s accused him of being too flippant with his magic, it’s been a point of contention with Itachi often enough, being told many times he takes his apparent ease with magic for granted, but it isn’t really something he can help.

 

He didn’t think much of it when he was younger, understands less and less as he grows older, because he doesn’t know how to explain it as anything other than an intrinsic part of him.  It’s simply there.  To him, using magic is tantamount to breathing, exists beneath his skin a ceaseless state of consciousness, an ever-present hum soothing in its regularity.

 

The way his magic works, it’s already a difficult concept for him to grasp on his own, and that much more difficult to convey to other people, even other magic users. 

 

Essentially, a magic user is someone who has the ability to manipulate one of the seven established transformation elements: fire, wind, lightning, earth, water, metal, and shadow.  However, magic can only affect elements that already exist.  It can’t create them.  The extent an element can be manipulated is determined by both a magic user’s immediate surroundings and their magical ability, the latter limited by inherent potential and acquired mental acuity.

 

Regardless of any inherent talent, it takes rigorous training to achieve the level of mental acuity required to perform what’s considered the truly impressive feats of magic, and only if the potential already exists.  Not every earth elemental can shatter the ground beneath them.  Not every lightning elemental is able to gather and sustain a high concentration of lightning in their hand.  Even for Itachi, learning how to hone his ability to manipulate shadows didn’t come easily.

 

Yet as a life user, the core of Sasuke’s training has always centred on building his endurance while using magic, because his magic already comes to him without having to think about it; once he’s seen a technique, it’s more or less a matter of simply willing his magic to mimic what he’s seen.

 

Unlike a conventional magic user, though, a life user’s magic predominantly lies within the ability to manipulate life force, the natural energy in every living organism.  While there’s little scientific basis, the universal belief is that, in lieu of using magical energy, this manipulation of life energy enables a life user to impart their own life force onto another living being, in order to mend any “sequence gaps” caused by injury or disease disrupting the flow of natural energy.

 

Which he can say is true, in most respects, if not overly simplified.  Calling them sequence gaps, as the generally accepted term, implies natural energy exists consistently within a linear vacuum, as a collective stream of energy flowing towards the same direction.  Instead, within any living organism, their life force is always contracting and expanding, in constant motion, flowing in different directions.  Even the smallest harm to the body can create the tiniest tears disrupting the flows of natural energy, what he visualises as provisional dead space, until the body is able to replenish its life force over time.

 

Depending on the severity, the longer it takes the body to heal, the less likely it will be able to replace the natural energy lost, the same energy that contributes to normal biological functions.  Small tears can swell in size to become massive holes, drifting with the various flows of natural energy, sometimes breaking off, like an infection, continuously deteriorating the energy around them, generating more and more provisional dead space until the body is no longer alive.

 

Using life magic can stall the process, filling in whatever tears in natural energy and allowing the body to heal much more quickly, even faster than Naruto’s ability to heal.  Yet it can also be incredibly draining.  And if he overexerts himself, giving too much of his life force is dangerous enough to kill him, almost did a few times, because being a kid with that kind of magic, subconsciously compelled by an instinctive urge to heal, it took a lot of trial and error before his parents trusted him to no longer need protection from any accidental touch.

 

Not that there’s much of any recorded history dealing with life magic, or that he knows another life user to compare himself to, but the healing aspect is one of the few consistencies he actually found among life users; supposedly, it explains having higher levels of empathy, although correlation doesn’t necessarily imply causation, since none of it explains why he can even Influence people at all.

 

What isn’t common knowledge, however, is that his life magic is much more than its healing aspect.  It encompasses all forms of magic.  It allows him not only the magical ability to manipulate elements already within existence, but to recreate them using his own life energy.

 

He realises it’s a lot of power.  But that’s all magic really is.  At the very root of it all, that’s what it comes down to, one of the longstanding causes underlying the continued dissent between the Alliance and the Federation.  Magic is simply another form of power.  What some have and what others don’t.  A different form of power not everyone happens to agree with.

 

And while he can rationalise in his mind the immense significance in merely knowing that kind of power exists, while he understands the concern surrounding the ease in which he’s able to use that power, on the other hand, that’s just the way his magic is.

 

Naruto starts to shift beside him, reaching into the side pocket of his pants for a small, square packet already torn open near the top, seemingly nondescript, save for its shiny red foil.  He empties the packet in his palm, shuddering at the sight of the white, oblong pill that falls out.

 

“Ugh.  Can’t stand having to take NPs.”  He shudders again, making an unpleasant face, shaking his head before popping the pill in his mouth and swallowing it dry.  “Give me REMs any day.”

 

Sasuke snorts, relaxing further against him, as comfortable as he’ll probably get in a cave like this.  His gaze trails back to the sphere in his hand, as the coils within begin to loosen, tighten again encircled by diffused bands fluctuating between parallel curves of shadow and light.

 

On its own, light magic isn’t officially recognised as a transformation element.  It’s just as appropriate to lump it under the umbrella of shadow magic, because there isn’t much difference between the two.  They’re inherently the same,something few people realise.  One can’t exist without the other, although through the years it’s just become more commonplace to call it shadow magic.  Mostly due to the fact it’s the form of magic people seem to be the least comfortable with.

 

Although it’s also the rarest form of magic next to life magic, as highly regarded as it is within his own family, within the magic user community at large it still has its share of negative connotations, usually with an emphasis placed on the ambiguous nature of shadow techniques.

 

Outside the magic user community, there’s a noted history of accusations towards shadow users, more so than other magic users, dubbing them soulless, unable to be trusted—an attitude that endured even after the attempted mass genocide during the Second Great War.  It’s no longer part of mainstream views, not within recent centuries, but the base sentiment hasn’t completely gone away.

 

In principle, to use shadow magic is to manipulate the appearance of light, which, depending on who’s asked, isn’t too dissimilar from distorting reality, because like with any kind of power, there are shadow users who’ve misused their magic.  Unfortunately, for too many people, even given the mere impression of having to question what they perceive as reality is sufficient provocation to condemn shadow magic altogether.

 

He’s never thought of shadow magic that way, grew up believing it to be the special magic only Itachi could do, something he wanted to be able to do, too.  And during his early attempts to emulate his brother, the absence of shadow became light.  Shadow magic is light magic.  That’s how he’s always understood it to be.

 

The idea for the sphere itself, however, came from his early attempts to emulate Naruto.

 

It’s an inspired copy of one of Minato’s more advanced techniques, the use of wind magic to create a rotating ball of air constantly in motion.  Minato also used it as the basis for an exercise he designed specifically with Naruto in mind, in order to help Naruto refine his control; while Naruto’s confident in his magical ability now, it wasn’t the easiest for him to cope with the sheer breadth of his power at a young age.

 

As early as eight, he had a regular habit of unleashing too much at once, sporadic bursts of magic laying destruction to nearly everything within a sizeable area.  He definitely had the stamina to keep up with it, even if he had issues keeping it fully contained.  But there were also times when he wouldn’t be able to use his magic, despite the fact that wind magic applied to an element as pervasive as air. 

 

However, its accessibility makes wind magic as volatile as fire magic and arguably the hardest form of magic to control.  It takes a certain sophistication, involves the strenuous kind of discipline that, by outward impression alone, many people tend to assume someone like Naruto isn’t capable of.  And yet at seventeen, Naruto’s already achieved a level of mastery magic users with twice his experience are nowhere near.

 

Although at eight, Sasuke would watch a nine year old Naruto determined to master his dad’s technique, determined not to give up trying to manipulate the air inside a thick-walled balloon filled with water and roughly the size of his fist.

 

So he decided to try it, too.  As he watched Naruto’s progression, not wanting to be left behind, he’d practice on his own, spend hours trying to emulate the techniques he’d seen both Naruto and Itachi do.  And then one day he’d taken Naruto to their hiding spot, proved for the first time he had elemental magic, too, proudly showed him the sphere of shadow and wind, although he made Naruto promise to keep it a secret until he was ready to tell.

 

It was so small then, this tiny little ball that paled in comparison to what Naruto could already do, but it was still his.  It was still something he was able to call his own, because for the longest time, ironically, it didn’t seem as if he would have magic.

 

Magic users typically present by the time they’re five, no later than six, or, in Itachi’s case, as early as three.  Sasuke’s magic hadn’t begun to manifest until eight, nearly a year after his empathy developed.  No one in his family expected him to be a prodigy like Itachi or Shisui, much less share Itachi’s exceedingly rare shadow magic, but there was an expectation that he’d at least have an affinity for the fire magic that’s run in their line for generations.

 

There were no whispers deeming him a disappointment.  There was no silent condemnation for not having any magical ability.  In fact, there were only words to placate him, assurances that any form of magic was extremely rare to have.  However, being born into one of the most prominent families of magic users, being constantly surrounded by people who could use magic, more than just his brother and their parents, people like Naruto and other kids his age, he’d placed upon himself the expectation to uphold that tradition.

 

By the time he was seven, Sasuke could only resolve that he hadn’t fulfilled it.  At seven, however, it was also the year his empathy appeared and he had his first episodic attack.

 

As a whole, the study of magic as a true science didn’t emerge until about three centuries ago, with the advent of the Suzuki scale, the first academic attempt on record to gauge how and why magic works, as well as proposing a common association between magic and what Suzuki would then term his definition of empathy among magic users, the means through which someone expresses a certain level of sensitivity to emotions; Suzuki was also one of the early advocates who believed magical ability to be heredity, although as an arbitrary genetic anomaly passed within families, as opposed being a gene that follows typical inheritance behaviour patterns.

 

Because no known, reliable biological indicators exist to measure a person’s magical ability, or lack thereof, Suzuki invented a complex, yet surprisingly comprehensive system of methodologies to help assess a potential magic user during the early stages of childhood, based on the premise that empathy develops before magical ability and continues to develop after magic begins to manifest, albeit it at a much slower pace.  Ultimately, the higher the initial empathetic ability is on the scale, the stronger the potential for magical ability.

 

There hasn’t been much progress in the field since then, or at least nothing that’s provoked as much academic discourse as Suzuki’s research.  With the more recent publications Sasuke’s read through, magic theory is barely mentioned in passing, if that, even referred to as bedlam theory, for all the confusion that comes alongside trying to study magic within a scientific context.

 

However, Suzuki’s proposed relationship between magic with empathy has become a widely accepted theory, going so far as to imply that magical ability and empathetic ability are mutually inclusive: All magic users have the capacity for empathy, placed between one and twelve on the Suzuki scale, although most people registered into the system place between two and five.

 

Among the registered magic users in his family, the chances of having strong levels of empathy tend to run on the higher side of average, usually between four and seven.  Itachi surpassed even that as an E9.  Naruto, being the exception he usually is, placed as an E10.

 

Sasuke hadn’t shown any of the usual signs of a magic user, but his parents still made an appointment for an initial assessment at four.  He was given another assessment at five, then again at six.  By his fourth appointment, it was decided he didn’t have the capacity for empathy and wouldn’t develop any magical ability.

  
Of course, he’d later prove this wrong, but the issue seemed to lie within the way his empathy works, further thrown off by his apparent lack of magical ability at the time, because even then his empathy was abnormally high, placing well beyond the scope of the Suzuki scale; normally, empathy functions as a passive sense, but his empathy seems to take on a more active role.

 

All it took was a simple touch from Naruto to set it off.

 

Although they weren’t necessarily friends, he did know Naruto by then, due to the friendship between their moms and the fact their parents ran in the same political circles.  Before they lived on base, they lived near the capital in Nagi, went to the same private school, and happened to share one overlapping class, even though magic users like Naruto had a slightly different curriculum.

 

He doesn’t recall any specific details, just remembers being in class, sitting at his desk, from behind Naruto trying to get his attention, a hand reaching out to tap him on the shoulder, and then everything just _hurt_.

 

He remembers falling out of his chair, being curled up on the floor, holding his head, screaming himself hoarse.  Too many people too close.  From everyone crowded around him, a cacophony of noise, all the crying and all the shouting, then the even louder voices he couldn’t recognise.  He didn’t know whether he was dying or going insane.  He didn’t know the pain was being caused by the brunt of everyone else’s emotions, his mind being torn every which way, overwhelmed by foreign sensations that all together still somehow felt like his own.

 

The only thing he knew was that being touched made it worse.

 

Eventually, he was admitted to the hospital, had to be carefully sedated, constantly monitored thorough periodic episodes.  Even vaguely aware of his surroundings, if anyone came too close it would trigger another adverse reaction.  For three days, it was an onslaught of unwanted sensation, exhausting attempts to fend off wandering hands.  No one could pinpoint anything physically wrong with him.  Since he’d failed to show any sign of magical ability yet, there was no reason for anyone to suspect his attacks were related to his empathetic ability.

 

Near the end of the third day came Itachi.  All at once his brother’s presence became a soothing balm, enveloped him in a comforting silence as he reached out for the first person it didn’t hurt to touch.  For hours at a time he spent latched on to his brother, wrapped around him, and because he didn’t know how else to tell Itachi what was wrong, the only thing he could do was refuse to let his brother go.

 

It became a little more bearable then, having Itachi there.  Other than his brother, though, he still wasn’t able to bear having anyone else too close, not even his mom and dad, yet his acute attachment to Itachi led his then pediatrician to refer his parents to a specialist in childhood empathy development, Iyashi, one of the best in his profession.

 

The circumstances were highly unusual, but, with an interim diagnosis of emotional trauma, he would spend the next eleven weeks in the hospital, quarantined in a special ward far enough away from other patients.

 

Like Itachi, Iyashi became someone he deemed safe.  After establishing the extent of his empathetic ability, how susceptible to emotions he truly was, Iyashi helped him learn to filter out emotions that weren’t his own.  Sessions with Iyashi were spent on strengthening both his emotional barriers and mental acuity, allowing him to catch up with magic users at his age, with exercises adapted to work without the magic component involved in the Suzuki method.

 

It took time to readjust being around people again, nearly a year for his fear of any unfamiliar touch to completely subside, wary of anyone he couldn’t deem safe getting too close.  The process was gradual for his parents, too, and it was startling, the simple sensation of just being able to hug his mom and dad again, but it was by complete accident Naruto became part of the initially small circle of people he thought of as safe.

 

The first time Naruto came to visit, he somehow managed to sneak into the ward.  He’d made up his mind to skip school that day, while Sasuke was asleep, waiting impatiently in a seat too large for his body, legs dangling over the edge of the chair pushed closer to Sasuke’s bed.

 

When he woke up, Sasuke couldn’t hold back from a flinch at the sight of Naruto, quick to sit up, putting distance between them, although it didn’t stop Naruto from approaching him with a timid smile, offering to let Sasuke play with the model ship he brought, and asking if Sasuke ever received the get well card he made.

 

Yet before Sasuke could come up with anything to say, his attention was redirected to the call of Naruto’s name, a long-suffering cry that prompted Naruto to hop down from the chair and dash across the room.  From over his shoulder, Naruto grinned, promising he’d come back again to visit soon to show Sasuke how to play with the ship.

 

The nurse who’d been searching for Naruto earlier, Mitate, one of the designated nurses allowed in the ward, was just in time to enter Sasuke’s room.  Naruto made a run for the open door, determined to escape Mitate’s wrath, steps quickened into a sprint, before lowering himself into a slide through Mitate’s legs, scrambling up off the floor, and dashing away down the hall.

 

Or, that’s what Naruto would later say he thought was supposed to happen,if Mitate hadn’t taken hold of his arm first, hoisting him off the floor, apologising profusely to Sasuke, and then preceding to lead away a wildly protesting Naruto trying to proclaim his innocence—the scene over as soon as it began, leaving Sasuke behind wide-eyed and confused, gaze wandering between the open door and the model ship Naruto had given him still in his hand.

 

In some ways, that first empathetic attack had been the catalyst to their friendship.  It other ways, it would begin a series of events that make him feel now as if they’re somehow drifting apart.

 

He knows Naruto’s not completely over it.  Driven by the same misguided sense of guilt that wouldn’t allow Sasuke to return Naruto’s favourite model ship, even when he was eight that adamant to make amends for something that wasn’t even his fault, the way Naruto used to look at him sometimes, those passing moments of uncertainty so painfully clear in blue eyes, because Naruto’s always been too much the kind of needlessly self-sacrificing guy who thinks it’s his responsibility to carry the weight of Sasuke’s burdens on his shoulders.

 

He never blamed Naruto, never saw a reason to.  Naruto was just as much a victim of unfortunate coincidence.  If not Naruto, it would’ve been someone else.  He just won’t allow himself to accept that.

 

Then again, Naruto’s not the only one unwilling to accept a lot of things.

 

The sphere of wind and light hovers over the back of Sasuke’s hand, moving from one finger to the next as it begins to grow larger and smaller once more.  He turns his hand over and catches the sphere in his palm, fingers curled through it, before opening his hand again, allowing the air to release slowly, the command to dispel without a second thought, its shape gradually fading alongside the absence of light.

 

Lowering his arm, he raises his head, met with Naruto’s discerning gaze. 

 

“Sasuke, I…”  Naruto breathes in with a heavy sigh.  “I didn’t plan on bringing this up just yet, but what’s been going on between you and Itachi, when it gets like this, it’s awkward for me, too, you know.  I mean, it seems like I’ve known you two since forever, so it’s hard being put in the middle.

 

“Itachi might not be my brother, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t close.  That doesn’t mean I can’t care about him, too.And what you said to Itachi yesterday, that was mean, Sasuke.  It wasn’t right.  To throw something like that in his face, something he had no control over, it wasn’t right, and you know it. 

 

“You never should’ve said something like that in the first place, so whatever brought it on, I think you need to suck it up and apologise.”

 

The small fire begins to die, the light in the cave retreating into a dim glow. 

 

“Yeah, Itachi isn’t the most open guy out there, butyou know how much he cares about you.  All the crap he has to put up with in his position, you can’t expect him to be perfect all the time.  He messes up just like the rest of us, but everything he does is because of you.  _Everything_ , Sasuke.  Even with all those outdated laws telling you what you can’t do, he always tries to find a way to make things the best he can for you.

 

“And if you still haven’t figured that out by now, well…”

 

Sasuke lifts his hand, palm laid open below his chin.  He parts his lips and blows softly towards the fire, spurs the flames a little higher, watches the excited flickers paint alternating streaks of light against the walls, revealing intermittent glimpses of the pictographs dancing on the uneven surface, highlighting the shadows playing over the lower half of Naruto’s jaw. 

 

“It takes a lot to get to a guy like Itachi, but you hurt him bad, Sasuke.  You really did.”  Naruto’s voice turns brisk, almost dismissive with a short scoff, yet his entire demeanour remains annoyingly calm.  “Actually, I’m really kind of mad at you for that.”  He glances at the fire, takes up again that discerning gaze this time matched with an unpleasant quirk to his lips. 

 

Weird how it’s harder not to listen to what Naruto’s saying when he isn’t being loud.

 

“You’re the only person who can hurt him like that.  You’re the only person who will always get to him that way.  The only reason he was even mad at you is because he was worried something could’ve happened to you and he wouldn’t have been able to stop it.”

 

He’s willing to acknowledge Naruto isn’t wrong.  As aggravating as Itachi’s attitude towards him can be at times, he knows how much his brother cares about him.  Never once was he given reason to doubt the bond between them.  After that initial confrontation, though, since openly challenging Itachi’s authority, he’s been readily avoiding the issue, still unsure where he stands.

 

If only for briefest moment, he’d felt it, the tiniest fracture in Itachi’s composure, beneath the fearful relief a poignant disappointment too late he’d realise hadn’t been directed toward him.  And yet in that very same moment, his brother had become a distant presence, the Itachi before him detached from the comfortable silence he’s never had around anyone else.  It’d been unsettling, the sight of his own diminishing reflection staring into the darkness of his brother’s eyes.

 

Out of all their disagreements, this time feels different from the rest, leaves him anxious for a next time that’s yet to come, not for any reason he’s prepared to think about.

 

Itachi’s been stationed off world before, in situations more dangerous  than this.  On missions he’d disappear for weeks at a time when Sasuke was too young to comprehend why, too young to worry about anything other than each time looking forward to the day he’d be able to greet his brother home.

 

He’s old enough to understand now, old enough to acknowledge that Naruto isn’t wrong.  Itachi was never as infallible as he once used to seem, and as the reality of the situation catches up to him, the source of a nameless trepidation, it’s this he doesn’t want to admit.

 

“It’s not that I don’t like Juugo.  Don’t get me wrong.  He really does seem nice so far.  A guy like that definitely doesn’t deserve all the crap he’s been through.  But there’s no way you could’ve known that.  Even if your empathy—”

 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Sasuke bites out, because it’s always such a convenient excuse to invalidate anything he does or doesn’t do by blaming it on his empathy.

 

“Honestly, I’m not saying you’re the only one who’s done dumb shit, okay.  I know I’ve done some pretty stupid shit, too.  But it’s on a totally different level in a situation like this.  Letting your guard down around someone you don’t even know, when you’re by yourself, someone like you—”

 

“Someone like—”

 

“Someone like you, Sasuke.  Someone who—”

 

Naruto picks at the thick material of the light blue blanket, smoothing it over his lap, legs fully covered, only the toes of his black boots peeking from underneath.  “Look, I…”  He draws in a short breath, letting out air in a soft huff.  “I know I give you a lot of shit for being a civilian, but I’m not sorry for it.  I’m not going to apologise for calling you what you are—except this isn’t just about you not being trained for this sort of thing.”

 

While it isn’t just about his lack of military training, being denied the opportunity to even enlist plays a significant part in it.  Unofficially, his preliminary entrance scores were more than good enough to get in; taken anonymously, they were impressive enough to attract the attention of someone like Hatake Kakashi.  Officially, solely on the basis of being a life user, it meant nothing.

 

By law, life users aren’t allowed to attend any of the military academies serving the Allied Armed Forces, regardless of sector or branch.  With how few people it actually affects, it’s the kind of petty law that’d be pointless to openly protest.  To do so would essentially be the same as putting his own wellbeing above the continued welfare of the Alliance.

 

As it stands, the law’s imposed as part of a bill entitling magic user rights, formed alongside other dated laws like Registration, which serves as a blanket sanction that requires all magic users to register their elemental type, alongside their current magical and empathetic ability with the Alliance, in order to be fully recognised as protected citizens; supposedly, it’s for their own good, to protect the minority from the sometimes more radical majority, because while these sort of laws don’t denounce magic users, or truly prevent them from participating as citizens of the Alliance, if any kind of discrimination were to take place, committed by members of the Federation or the Alliance, unregistered magic users aren’t guaranteed the same natural protections as non-magic users.

 

Reforming magic user rights isn’t even an option.  Despite the rational irrationally of politics, no sane member on the Council would think to even attempt proposing that kind of monumental change, much less to a system that, for the most part, many people don’t perceive as broken, largely due to the fact the bill was a major incentive in the Neet-Feld treaty that keeps the Alliance and the Federation from launching into another war.

 

“Maybe things might’ve been different,” Naruto tries to placate.  “Maybe it wouldn’t be the same if you could’ve signed up for the Academy, too.  But the way things are now, you being who you are, that’s why I’m supposed to look out for you.  I’m supposed to put you first.  I have to.”

 

Lips pursed, Sasuke turns his gaze to fire beginning to wane, turns from the soft gleam in blue eyes that won’t look away.  He tugs on his sleeve, absently pulling it over his arm, holding the cuff between his fingers and his palm.  There’s no reason to argue with Naruto over a moot point.

 

Hearing Naruto say it doesn’t make the sentiment any less discouraging from all the other times he’s heard it, the same tired platitude over and over again.  At least he can be grateful his parents are well past the phase where they felt the need to keep him under proverbial lock and key, but he’s spent the last five years striving to prove he’s worth more than just his magic, fought to overcome his own limitations to prove that he’s not weak, that he doesn’t deserve to be accused of being a exploitable risk that could be used to undermine the integrity of the Alliance.

 

Having life magic shouldn’t be such a serious issue.  Yet no matter what he does, he’s either treated as a political liability, or seen as someone who can’t fend for himself, someone who needs to be saved from himself, but he didn’t ask Naruto to protect him.  He’s never wanted that from him.

 

 “...you really don’t get it, do you?”  Naruto watches him strangely, not quite bemused, blue eyes earnest with an expression Sasuke can’t entirely place.  “The things you can do with your magic, Sasuke—those aren’t normal things you see every day.  And it messes with people.  Either they want to use you for what you have, or don’t want you to have it because they don’t.

 

“The things everyone else can’t do, that makes you different.  That makes you stand out.  And sometimes, that makes you a threat.  Next to you, I’m just Namikaze Minato’s son.  I mean, I don’t like it, either, but that’s what it is, you know.  Even if it ever did get out about Kyuubi, it wouldn’t take much for people to find a way to make it come back to you.

 

“And not just people like Orochimaru.  Hell, people like him, they’re easy to keep tabs on.  That guy definitely isn’t shy about wanting to get his hands on you.  It’s the people you don’t know that you really have to look out for.  It’s the stuff coming from the people you can’t see that makes it harder to keep you safe.  And to hear the way some of them talk about you, like you’re not even your own person, like you’re just some…”

 

He hears enough to know some things.  Even around base, he’s been the subject of whatever gossip’s been going around.  It’s not bad, nothing worse than idle speculation about his life magic.  The people who have approached him did so out of curiosity.  Off base, when he goes to Ise, a lot of people tend to keep their distance, whether due to rumours of grossly exaggerated repercussions, or simply not understanding what they haven’t been exposed to.  Personally, he doesn’t think too many people are bothered to care, although intent doesn’t matter all that much when it seems as if his entire existence is reduced to his magical ability.

 

It’s nothing new, though.  He’s had enough time to get used to it, enough to learn it’s a waste of time to stay upset over something he can’t do anything about.

 

 _They’re just words_ , he remembers trying to assure Itachi, remembers trying to replace the increasingly more common resignation on his brother’s face with the gentle expression that once upon a time didn’t seem so far from memory, but the weary smile he received instead, that didn’t suit his brother, either.

_No, Sasuke.  Even the simplest of words can substantiate the most single-minded ambition.  It’s within these simple words that our perceptions of truth are laid bare to a myriad of possibilities._

 

“…I can’t change what people think about me, Naruto.  I can’t control what people say.”

 

“I know you can’t.”  Naruto bows his head, with a soft hum that belies the stiff set to his shoulders, restraining an agitation that turns rigid the corner of his mouth.

 

There are things Naruto isn’t allowed to tell him, things he understands Naruto is obligated not to say, but for every omission Naruto makes, he still wonders sometimes, how much of what Naruto keeps to himself is because he’s willingly chosen not to let him know.

 

“But that doesn’t make it okay.”

 


	4. Dirty Harry IV: Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head

They leave a little before dawn, before the sun has a chance to peek over the horizon, but while it’s warm enough to get an early start.  The plan today is to head for the prison, to give the area a more thorough search, hopefully find some kind of comparable technology they can use towards the ship’s repair, as well as stock up on provisions.

 

Between the four of them, on that initial trip to the cave, they’d carried back as much food as they were able, having improvised stripping square pieces from Juugo’s other blanket, bundling the food in folded cloth secured with a simple knot.  Itachi and Juugo had taken a larger portion, enough to last a week or so.  He and Naruto were left with enough to last for three days in the cave.

 

Reasonably speaking, the prison’s closer in proximity for them, an easier stretch to manage compared to the near four hour trek it takes to reach the ship.  It’ll take another half hour to get there, as long as the weather continues to hold up.  The window of opportunity for travel on Barrah isn’t the most ideal, nor is it consistent, but the winds have been somewhat temperate, erratic on occasion, further slowing his and Naruto’s pace, although luckily far from the kinds of harsh winds that’d lead up to another storm.

 

In the middle of a calm, they pass a black dunemite, catching sight of it idling across the trough in an outlying field of large, sweeping dunes.  He knows Naruto saw it, but there’s none of Naruto’s light-hearted griping.  Naruto doesn’t spare it a second glance.  The dunemite doesn’t notice them, anyway, too far away, yet even at this distance it remains a visible figure stark amidst the sea of white.

 

Blue eyes continue to stare ahead unmoved, towards a steep mass of jagged ashen rock jutting out from the ground, towering from above, a massive near vertical exposure tapered to a rising peak.  At the base of the crag begins an ample salt pan camouflaged by sand, indicating where beneath the unstable outcrop below the crag marks one of two hidden entrances to the prison, the small opening to a long and narrow passageway.

 

Naruto takes out a compact flashlight, holds it pointed in front of him, before ducking into the opening first.  Sasuke slips in behind him, eyes fluttering at the circle of bright light illuminating the coarse walls in the cramped space.  It’s a gradual descent towards the end of the passageway, where they reach a heavy door, distinctive from its framing rock, presumably once controlled by the defunct access panel adjacent to it.

 

Still, the door works as any other manual door.  With Naruto’s push, it gives with a low rasping noise, grows into a near shrill creak as it lays open the main corridor, as Naruto steps from uneven ground onto the levelled surface of a burnished stone floor, greyish-white beneath his black boots.

 

The cool air that greets Sasuke is a welcoming reprieve.  Beside him, Naruto turns off his flashlight, sticking it back inside one of his pockets, while the door begins to slowly fall closed, emanating this time a more jarring screech, sealing off the passageway and leaving them in a spacious hall.

 

As much the prison Juugo calls it, for all intents and purposes, it’s not much better than a crypt, a largely confined space, despite the sheer apparent size of it, juxtaposed with a ceiling that hangs low, looming overhead like some incessant, dark mass.  There’s something fundamentally disturbing about it, as bleak in itself as the awareness of the experiments Juugo said had taken place here.

 

He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself claustrophobic, even in a place this far below ground, and yet it’s close enough to the feeling that he hasn’t been able to shake it off.  Some of it in part, maybe because it reminds him of the months he spent in quarantine at the hospital.  But being somewhere like this just feels too…sterile.  Practically barren, apart from Juugo, it’s devoid of any signs that anyone else ever was here, much less someone as flagrant as Orochimaru, if he really is the Snake Man Juugo described.

 

The obvious thought placed into the design makes it clinical in the most deliberate sense, suffocating, surrounded by solid walls smoothed in white, standing in the middle of an emptied hall, a sweeping pathway drenched in shadows floating still beneath the pale green glow of widely spaced, discreetly placed lights. 

 

While not entirely the maze it first appeared to be, from the outside in, without knowing where to go, it can seem a little daunting.  Size definitely plays factor lending to that initial impression, with the main hall posing one continuous loop, covering a good six or seven kilometres, but it mostly follows a simple five-sided layout.  Save for the two marked entrances placed on opposite ends of the prison, built in along the outer wall is a seemingly uniform row of diminutive cells, all identical in appearance and size, each one steeped in white, partially bared by an opaque, sliding door.

 

“Do we still like Orochimaru for this?” Naruto says, crouched near the blank segment of wall a wide margin between the last cell in this row and one of five main points sectioning off the perimeter.  “Juugo’s people could sense magical auras, yeah, but what good would that do for a guy who can’t even use magic?”

 

“That hasn’t stopped him before.  But, still assuming it is Orochimaru, the real question is, how does experimenting on people with Juugo’s kind of sensory ability benefit his research?”

 

Sasuke frowns, eyes drawn to the red holster bag at Naruto’s side.  “With the kinds of breakthroughs he’s made in the medical field, that’s why the Federation keeps funding his research and giving him so much leeway.  Given that, it’s reasonable he’d be interested in life magic.  So, I can understand his motivations towards me.  But sensory abilities—”

 

Naruto gives a derisive scoff, standing to his full height.  “Don’t tell me you’re trying to defend that asshole.”  His voice comes out a low rumble, not quite a snarl, and he takes a deliberate step closer, wilful with an uncompromising stare, yet Sasuke doesn’t waver, patient, calmly holding Naruto’s gaze.

 

“No, I’m saying Orochimaru does things for a reason.  It’s not out of some baseless provocation.  At least in his mind, he thinks what he does is justified.  I’m just trying to figure out his angle on this one.”

 

“Still doesn’t excuse all those times he’s tried to corner you alone.  Still keeps trying to make contact with you.  And the way he talks to you, that he could even think that kind of thing is okay.  I don’t care who he is.  He shouldn’t be able to get away with—”

 

“I already know what he’s done, Naruto.  I’m the one who’s had to put up with it.  And I’m the last person who would ever try to excuse it.”

 

“Sasuke, I…”  Naruto closes his eyes, bows his head, the heel of his palm pressed against his brow.  Slowly, he breathes in, slowly releases his breath, taking a deliberate step back, no longer crowding Sasuke’s space.  Sighing, he looks up, dropping his hand and letting it fall listless at his side.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was accusing you of that.  I just…”

 

“I know you didn’t mean it that way.  I know you’re not angry at me.  But you still said it.  And sometimes, it doesn’t always sound like there’s much of a difference.”

 

Beyond the main hall, across from each of the five corners, open doorways branch into much narrower corridors that follow a less consistent pattern, sometimes interlocking, or ending abruptly with perpetual dead ends appearing at differentiating intervals, and even built within these are broken rows of additional cells seemingly placed at random.  Lying off-centre, though, acting as a sort of focal point, is the storeroom Juugo had already led them to, the largest area they know of, and still their only considerable mention after canvassing the entire prison.

 

For an operation on this scale, however minimalist the effect of the prison, that he and Naruto haven’t found some kind of control room, or at least a basement level, none of it makes sense.  There has to be a power source somewhere, possibly a self-sustaining generator, or maybe some way to store renewable energy, efficient enough that it’s been keeping this place lit for a while, alongside supplying its HVAC system.

 

While they weren’t able to find anything they could use towards the ship’s repairs, much less to help get SatCom up and running again, he was at least hoping they’d stumble on something that would shed more light on this place.  It’s not that he doesn’t believe Juugo.  Even without his empathy, the state he found Juugo in, there was nothing to suggest Juugo was lying about the people from his village being captured and forcibly experimented on for their ability to see magical auras.  And yet there’s no evidence he and Naruto can find to support it.

 

If anything, this place is on the far end of the spectrum from what he’d think to expect.  It’s almost too pristine, heavily streamlined, despite the austerity, on the same level of disconcerting as the cell Juugo chose for himself; in the cell, there’s a small toilet area, a meagre space to sleep on the floor, in the corner a humble display of what few belongings Juugo could claim as his own, all of it tidy, kept neatly arranged, bearing an eerie semblance to a space that could pass as a home, what Juugo had called his home, and where he’d been living for who knows how long.

 

As of now, it looks like today’s going to be another bust.  Hours of searching culminates in another visit to the storeroom.  It was Naruto who said they should take a breather, when he noticed Sasuke starting to lag behind a little more often, tight-lipped each time Sasuke paused to take an extra breath.  Ultimately, the recurring fatigue passed, like it did every other time.  It wasn’t like Naruto’s suggestion was much of a choice, anyway, but Sasuke didn’t have it in him to disagree.

 

“I don’t know what’s worse: REMs or NPs.  At least with nutrition pills you don’t taste much of anything.  Not that I don’t my mind not having to chew—”

 

“Inhale,” Sasuke corrects, because that’s what it really is being subjected to watch Naruto around food.

 

“—my own food.  Seriously, though.  I know the expiration date says this stuff’s still good and all.  But is it really?”  Naruto holds up a square, lightweight pouch, roughly half the size of a brick, pinched at both edges, crinkled along one side, but otherwise not in too questionable looking a condition.  “Shouldn’t we be worried about eating food that takes so long to expire?”

 

Across from Naruto, sitting on the floor, Sasuke pulls open another flap of the box in front of him, revealing inside more individual pouches containing a mishmash of freeze-dried and dehydrated foods, protein powders, among other non-perishable foodstuffs.

 

The storeroom’s one of the most unexpected features of the prison, one of the more humane aspects about a place like this.  A room fairly large in size, lined along its walls are boxes of various sizes packaged with food, stacked in between thin sheets of dust.

 

Surprisingly, it’s pretty well-stocked, too.  They’ve only found food so far, yet even assuming the storeroom is an oversized pantry, more so than the food itself, what bothers him is how much of it was actually left behind, because it gives him the impression that this isn’t just a deserted prison, that it may not have been purposely abandoned.  Juugo did say that one day the Snake Charmer and the Masked Men had simply left, so he won’t immediately dismiss the idea that something caused them to leave on short notice.

 

“I’m talking years here.”  Naruto brandishes the pouch towards Sasuke, waving it in a wide arc with an excessive flourish.  “Years, Sasuke.”

 

“They wouldn’t be called REMsif they didn’t last years.”

 

REMs were another thing that came with the aftermath of the Second Great War, long before the Fall of Factions period, before sectors were properly established.  What started off as self-contained military rations became meals that would help feed the hundreds of millions of refugees displaced by the war, not even including the undocumented, surviving magic users seeking asylum.

                                                                                                                 

Better technologies paved the way for better techniques in food preservationrepurposed for wider use.  The idea was to provide nutritionally dense food requiring little to no preparation, with an exceptionally long shelf-life, that could withstand a variety of uncontrolled conditions.

 

What resulted was extremely cheap convenience food able to be both mass produced and easily distributed in abundance.

 

For the commercial market, self-contained REMs were rebranded as REFs, crucial in the push for the growth of independent and developing colonies, as well as the further expansion of settlements on planets, back when travel in space had taken considerably longer, lasting months, and even years.

 

Recently, commercially available REFs have become somewhat of an on-going trend, withtheir convenience having garnered such a massive appeal, ranging from the cheap and readily available brands, to the more expensive, specialised ones catering to a high-end market.

 

Except that isn’t the case here.  The problem with the food in the storeroom is that they’re not commercial REFs.  They’re military issue REMs.  Overstock most likely.  Although whether it was originally intended for use by the Alliance or the Federation, there’s no way to tell from the boxes.

 

“It said blueberry tart on the package,” Naruto says.  “What I ate was bag nasty.  And did not taste like blueberry tart.”

 

Rummaging through his box, Sasuke stops to look up, glancing behind Naruto, at the large, clear upright tank collecting water, presumably connected to an outside water source.  “Wash it down with more water.”

 

“And to think I used to have that kind of innocence.”  With a small shake of his head, Naruto gives a pitying sigh.  “But see, Kiba’s got this theory, right, like the slop served at the Chow Hall, whatever gets used to make REMs,” he says, voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, hand placed at the side of his mouth, as if there were anyone around to hear him, “…isn’t actually food.”

 

“Like that’s ever stopped you guys from eating it.”  Sasuke snorts, pushing strands of dark hair behind his ear.  “What were you expecting?  Your own personal chef?”

 

Really, Naruto’s not that picky when it comes to food, with his stomach little more than a step up from being a bottomless pit.  He’ll eat whatever’s in front of him most of the time, sometimes complaining for the sake of complaining.  Before he moved from the Capital, though, he did grow up with a personal chef.

 

“Food that’s actually eatable,” Naruto mumbles, cheeks tinged with a slight flush.  “I don’t think that’s asking for a lot.”

 

Lips pressed together, Sasuke tries to curb his smile.  He tosses a sealed package at Naruto, who catches it in his right hand.  “There.  You can stop whining.”

 

Naruto reads the package.  He stares at it for a somewhat lengthy period of time, and then slowly looks back to Sasuke.  “Thoughtful and cute,” he says, wry,gently setting the package on the floor.  “You’re lucky I actually like you.  But you shouldn’t have.  Really.”

 

“It’s pork flavoured.”

 

“Why do you like to tease me during my times of need?”  Naruto lets out a loud groan, stretching out his arms and crossing them above his head.  “Now I’m really in the mood to go to Ayame’s Bar.  Nothing beats the ramen at Ayame’s Bar.”

 

Of course, there aren’t many restaurants on base, Ayame’s Bar being one of the most popular.  Most places were located in Ise, a small coastal town where a lot of trainees and personnel liked to hang out while off duty, the closest they had to a getaway without having to go too far.

 

“You act like you haven’t been there in years.  Didn’t you just go with Kiba and Shikamaru last week?”

 

“Yeah, but still.  It’s _Ayame’s Bar_.”  Naruto lowers his arms, closing his eyes with a smack of his lips.  “Everything there’s the best.”

 

Not enough to warrant the offensive face Naruto’s making.

                                                                         

“Just thinking about it, you know—what I wouldn’t give for a hot bowl of fresh shio ramen.”

 

Sasuke recoils in disgust, subjected to watching Naruto all but salivating, making obscene noises over _imaginary food_.

 

“Or even some good red bean soup.  When we get back home, I’m going to treat myself to a nice, huge bowl, so I can take my time and really just get in ther— _ow—_ the hell, Sasuke?”  Naruto looks up with an exaggerated grimace, gingerly rubbing his shoulder, where he was hit by the small pouch of textured vegetable protein Sasuke threw.  “Was that really necessary?”

 

“You were making disturbing faces.”

 

“Tch.  Just for that, you owe me curry ramen when we get back home.”

 

“So I can watch you fantasise about eating food that’s already in front of you?  No.”

 

“Can you really blame me at a time like this?  Jeeze.  At least the food there’s better than chow that tastes like sludge.”

 

“You don’t know what sludge tastes like.”

 

“…no,” Naruto drawls.  “But if I did, I’d still say that’s what it tastes like.”

 

“Right.  Since you’re such an expert on what should pass for food.”  Sasuke closes his box, folding down the flaps, and then pushing it aside.  “It’s not like you—”  A cloud of dust stings his eyes, and he tenses, unable to hold back a small sneeze that gives way to an involuntary shudder.

 

He sniffs, head drawn back, blinking at the sound of Naruto’s airy laughter.  “I don’t see what’s so funny about me sneezing.”

 

“You always have the funniest sounding sneezes.”  With too wide a grin, Naruto shifts forward closer, reaching towards Sasuke with a palm resting over the side of Sasuke’s face, thumb wiping at the dust brushed near the top of Sasuke’s cheek.  “If we didn’t know each other, I wouldn’t have expected it from someone like you at all.”

 

Sasuke holds Naruto’s gaze, staring unamused at the habitual teasing, but then Naruto’s grin starts to falter, becomes this poor facsimile of a smile that doesn’t hold up long against the backdrop of such a stark white, lost againstthe mundaneness of them sitting in a storeroom filled with boxes too many to go through, as if suddenly in this moment, Naruto realised just how far they are away from home.

 

He allows his hand to fall away from Sasuke’s cheek, trying again for another smile, but this one falters, too.  “…I know I can be a little slow on the uptake when it comes to certain things, but that doesn’t mean I’m the kind of guy who goes around completely unaware.  It doesn’t mean I haven’t spent more than half my life getting to know you, so, uh…”

 

He gives into a tired sigh, features drawn with an uncertain frown as he shifts back.  “Is this the part where you make me ask what’s really been going on?”

 

At first, Sasuke doesn’t want to answer.  He wants to deny it, doesn’t want to look away from Naruto, but can’t quite bring himself to admit that something is wrong.  From a growing frustration, he’s been questioning himself, trying to suppress a too familiar rising self-doubt.  But he’s not a helpless kid anymore.  He’s old enough not to feel that way anymore, but even to admit something like that aloud, it shouldn’t be this hard to talk to Naruto.

 

“Since we landed here, have you,” he begins to say, gets caught raising his eyes to meet Naruto’s gaze, falling under the scrutiny of that same discerning stare, but with everything Naruto may not be able to tell him, at least he can still trust Naruto to be candid about all the things he does say.

 

“Have I what?”

 

“…has your magic started to feel any different?”

 

“Not in any way I can think of.”  Brow furrowed, Naruto sits up a little straighter, a tentative concern seeping into his voice.  “Is that why you’ve been so tired lately?  Is that why you’ve been more…”

 

Sensitive, is what Naruto doesn’t say, yet it’s been implied often enough that very rarely does it need to be spelled out.  With his track record, for everyone else, it’s been safer to assume to the worst; overexerting his life magic can leave him more susceptible to the effects of his empathy, but that’s not always the case.  He won’t hold it against Naruto, though, since he knows Naruto means well, and only means it out of concern, because it wasn’t so long ago when it felt like they could share anything with each other.

 

“The atmosphere on Barrah, it makes me feel—it feels…off.”

 

“What do you mean by off?”

 

Sasuke looks down, eyes narrowed at his hand partially covered by an oversized cuff, struggling for the words to express what he wants to say.  “It’s not that I can’t feel my magic here.  Or that anything’s wrong with it.  It’s still there.  I’d know if I was separated from my own magic.  Except it still feels…I don’t know.”

 

“...think it might have something to do with that collar?”

 

“No, that was—whatever it was keeping Juugo imprisoned here, that’s not what I’m talking about.  The kind of magic that was, how it felt when it touched my magic, the way it made me feel like I was being—”

 

Hand balled into a fist, Sasuke takes a moment to breathe in, lips pursed, forcing himself to relax with a slow exhale.  “Everything about it was… _wrong_.  Like something had corrupted it.  Something that felt dark.  I still can’t wrap my head around it, but that’s the only way I can think to describe it.”

 

“…how can magic feel dark, though?”  Naruto says, soft, with a careful hesitation, two fingers tapping a distracted beat against the floor.  He pulls a face, expression nowhere near convinced, yet far from demeaning, and the tapping stops.  “That doesn’t make sense.  Magic isn’t supposed to feel like anything.  When empathy’s involved, yeah, but on its own, magic is just… _magic_.”

 

“I’m not saying it makes sense, Naruto.  I’m telling you what I felt.”

 

The backlash he received disrupting the magic feeding from Juugo’s collar, he’s never experienced anything like it before.  What he can compare it to, however, perhaps what scares him even more, is something he can’t expect anyone else to understand, and it’s still in his mind—being overtaken by an incredibly invasive cold, a fettering sensation that became this violating decay, echoing a distortion of everything he once thought life magic to be.

 

He used to think of it in the context of being able to give life.  Recently, he discovered it also means being able to take life away.  It’s not that clean-cut a comparison, he knows.  To be fair to himself, he isn’t so conceited to believe anything he’s done equates to what was forced upon Juugo, but he can’t exactly afford to pretend that aspect of his magic doesn’t exist.

 

It’s only happened a few times, but each time happened inadvertently, too quickly not to easily pass without notice, since each time it happened out of his control.  Initially, he tried to ignore it, thought of it as a fluke.  It’d seemed so trivial compared to everything else at the time, with the rogue faction that ambushed Sakura’s team on Gade II, because it was a highly publicised assault in the middle a neutralised zone.  He wasn’t even a target, just incidental collateral in a group hostage situation, but it happened with the briefest touch, his hand being yanked by the captor who’d grabbed him, and it wasn’t until later he became aware of it at all.

 

Another instance took place in the tiny little plot Naruto calls a garden, happened when the plants around him seemingly began to wilt just a little beneath a faint reach.  Yet even then he didn’t grasp the severity of what any of it meant, couldn’t fully appreciate how unforgiving his life magic had the potential to be, not until it happened around Naruto.

 

Not much more than a simple touch, with the brush of his lips, in the same way he’d kissed Naruto all those times before, he thought Naruto had stopped breathing.  Because Naruto had stopped moving, was just lying there so still, and in his panic he kissed Naruto again, breathed life into him the same way he didn’t even know he could take it away moments before, the only thing he could think of at the time, simply because it felt like the most natural thing to do.

 

Surprisingly, or maybe not really, it hadn’t fazed Naruto.  He was too busy being offended Sasuke hadn’t immediately confided in him about being able to take away someone’s life force, apparently well enough to make inappropriate jokes about breath play and sex magic that doesn’t exist, but it was also Naruto’s way of trying to reassure him, trying to convince Sasuke that he really was okay.

 

He said it wasn’t that he’d stopped breathing.  At most, he felt a slight tug at his life force, barely much of anything, which he did admit was probably because of Kyuubi.  Apart from that, he’d just been taken by surprise, more so due to the heightened sense of euphoria coinciding with Sasuke’s ability to heal.

 

While Sasuke tried to cope with the newly presented, potentially fatal consequences of getting “worked up,” Naruto continued to maintain he was okay, but Naruto likes to insist on a lot of things, likes to make him believe in the kinds of promises that can’t always be kept, yet none of it negates the fact that, Kyuubi or not, Sasuke still could’ve killed him.

 

“Okay,” Naruto says, and Sasuke blinks, looking up, fingers unfurled from over the cuff covering his palm.  “Putting the whole dark magic thing to the side for now, when you say wrong, do you mean wrong as in not right, or wrong as in not natural?”

 

It’s an interesting distinction Naruto would think to make.  Sasuke’s limited exposure to the collar’s magic had been jarring enough that it evoked an inherent sense of wrongness.  It began as a twisted perversion of his brother’s shadow magic, leached a crude pretence of the gentle familiarity he so readily associates with Itachi’s cold, but then it began to steal beneath his life magic, nearly consumed him, an intrusive consciousness that encroached upon him, crept ever so slowly over his skin, so far removed from the natural inclination of his own magic to give—and to go against that, the absence of life entails more than the cause of death.

 

To take life is to create a fixed decay.  With only his touch to inflict a single tear, to impose the smallest hole that rapidly swells and everything around it corrodes, leaves in its wake quickly growing rifts nearly impossible to undo, because to take life is to feel it unravel, to have his body succumb to another person’s mortality, to have someone else’s life force tether itself to his very bones.

 

“Both.” 

 

Naruto draws out a sigh.  “Eh, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.  You already know magic isn’t good or bad.  I’ll say I’ve had a bad feeling about this place ever since we got here.  But I can blame that on the more obvious things.”

 

Sasuke raises his arm to pull back the cuff of his jacket sleeve.  “What about your magic, then?  You haven’t noticed anything different about it?”

 

There’s a slight tilt to Naruto’s head, a thoughtful quirk to his lips.  He doesn’t make a show of using his magic, doesn’t put any visible effort towards it.  Knuckles resting on the floor, he simply lifts his hand and opens his palm, revealing a miniature whirlwind already housed into the shape of a rapidly growing sphere, a frenzied whorl of air held in constant motion and contained with practiced ease.

 

“I don’t feel that much of a difference using it, honestly,” he says, looking to Sasuke, in between one breath and the next, magic quietly dispelled by the time his fingers once again begin tapping at the floor.  “But whatever using magic always feels like for you, maybe it’s something close to that?”

 

Unfortunately, that’s not exactly saying much.  As hard as it to imagine Naruto without Kyuubi, it’s harder to tell where Naruto ends and Kyuubi begins, but even without Kyuubi to fall back on, however tempting first impressions may be to sell him short, by no means could Naruto be considered weak.  Coming from two distinct families of notably powerful wind elementals, it seemed more likely than not he would take after both Kushina and Minato.

 

His magical ability’s multiplied at least tenfold with Kyuubi, so much so that he has to hold back during his annual Registration, to keep a lower profile, sort of gaming the system to better hide in plain sight.  On average, he tests on the higher side of B-class, ranking a little more than what’s common in his upper percentile, but nothing particularly special, not enough to openly attract the kind of attention someone like him doesn’t need.

                                                                                                                     

Before Naruto was accepted into the Academy, their situations were nearly parallel.  If Sasuke grew up learning to hide the extent of his abilities, Naruto grew up learning to hide Kyuubi’s existence.  Despite Naruto’s ranking, it doesn’t have much bearing on the attention he’s received because of his skills as a pilot, alongside the attention already focused on him simply for being his father’s son, but on top of harbouring a secret like Kyuubi, the fewer people who know, the better.

 

“Now that you mention it, though, Kyuubi does feel a little more…present?  Or freer, I guess I should say.”

 

“How?”

 

“Well, he’s not as dormant as he usually is.  You know how much he prefers to sleep in, but it’s sort of like, the longer we stay here, the closer to the surface he feels.” 

 

“Is he awake now?”

 

Naruto pauses, glancing down, gaze turned distant during the seconds it takes for him to check on Kyuubi.  “Yeah, he’s starting to notice it, too,” he says, looking back to Sasuke.  “He doesn’t think it’s anything bad, but it is making him twitchy.

 

“And since he is awake, because you asked, he wants me to personally let you know he’s still not happy about the whole collar thing.  Something about the way your magic felt to him that day when we caught up to you.  For the record, I wasn’t happy about it, either.  Just to let you know.”

 

Sasuke snorts.  “I’ll take it into consideration.”

 

He long ago accepted Kyuubi as part of Naruto, but Kyuubi hadn’t always been so tolerant of him.  According to Naruto, Kyuubi doesn’t really care for most people in general, making few exceptions only when it comes to anyone close to Naruto.  Concerning Sasuke, it was a gradual process, a grudging tolerance that developed into a sometimes roundabout regard for his wellbeing, a sometimes volatile concern that in many ways mirrors aspects of Naruto’s personality.

 

Naruto tries to claim he’s been a good influence on Kyuubi.  He also likes to claim he and Kyuubi have their own special way of understanding each other.  It practically writes itself, a sentient immortal being sealed inside the body of a mortal human boy.  Kyuubi’s been peaceably coexisting within Naruto since Naruto was born, so the idea of them getting along really isn’t too surprising, especially considering Naruto could make friends with a brick wall.

 

Sasuke won’t claim to fully understand the connection between them, but it is worth noting that while Naruto’s never been directly affected by his Influence, there’s something about his life magic that seems to appeal directly to Kyuubi.  Although he’d hesitate to say it works in the same vein as his Influence, because appealing to the sentiment of an ancient fox demon is a little less ordinary than accidently inducing euphoric sensations.

 

As to why his magic appeals to Kyuubi, when Sasuke asked, though, Naruto said Kyuubi thought of him in terms of unexpectedly being a very pure person.

 

Sasuke had raised an eyebrow in response, conveying more than a healthy dose of scepticism, alongside a healthier dose of offense.  “As opposed to being what—evil incarnate?”

 

“Not a very pure person, I guess?  I don’t know.  Or maybe I’m just not explaining this right?  The way he put it is a little weird, but what I think he’s trying to get at is, when he’s saying he sees you as pure, he means you _and_ your magic.  Not just you _or_ your magic.  But that’s all he’ll tell me about it.”

 

“Because I have life magic?”

 

“He says it’s because your magic makes him feel the good kind of sleepy.  Just not in those exact words.  That’s why he doesn’t mind you so much anymore.  He never did, really.  He just doesn’t like to admit it.”  Naruto offered a heedless shrug.  “Sometimes, he likes to call you…Shakti?  Or Sachi.  Even if you are Uchiha Sasuke—which, whatever any of that’s supposed to mean.  But for a guy who supposedly doesn’t like people, he sure likes giving people nicknames.”

 

The names themselves Sasuke’s never had a problem with, although he still wonders the significance of Kyuubi occasionally referring to him by those specific names, and if it’s more than mere coincidence, because even compared to the degree the calming effect his magic normally has on other people, Kyuubi’s remarkably receptive to it. 

 

At one time, his presence around Naruto would act as somewhat of a safeguard.  It still has an immediate effect now, but even more so then, when Naruto was more prone to near violent outbursts of magic, and Kyuubi was more likely to intervene whenever he thought Naruto was under emotional duress.

 

His first exposure to Kyuubi wasn’t until he was eleven, after Naruto had turned twelve.  Something had shaken Naruto, caused him to leave base without letting anyone know.  Although he was only gone for a few hours, he’d planned to run away that day, planned to leave everyone behind, but it was because of the same magic he couldn’t contain that Sasuke was able to find him.

 

Far away from base, Naruto was alone near the foot of the valley, trembling on his hands and knees, doing his best to keep at bay the magic surrounding him, a power raw in its potential for devastation, shrouding his body as if it were a second skin, laying waste to the area around him save for the patch of ground beneath where he stood.

 

Amidst Naruto’s cries to stay back, Sasuke continued forward, entered the vast ring of deadened field, quietly drawn toward a foreign sensation, a magic distinct from Naruto’s own, yet a magic he didn’t recognise as unfamiliar, because reaching for Naruto, unconsciously reaching toward Kyuubi, somehow, he already knew Kyuubi wouldn’t hurt him.

 

In the end, all it took was a modest touch for the magic shielding Naruto to finally subside, enough when taking Naruto’s hand into his own to appease Kyuubi.  There’s no telling how much damage Naruto could’ve caused that day, how quickly the situation could’ve escalated from that one moment Naruto lapsed in control.  Naruto still refuses to talk about it.  Sasuke still remembers enough of Naruto’s emotional state not to bring it up.

 

As adamant as Naruto is with his declarations about being responsible for him, it’s just as much his responsibility to look out for Naruto.  What happened that day is only one reason of many.

 

He doesn’t believe his relationship with Naruto, in whatever permutation, is based solely on how Kyuubi feels about him, because he and Naruto knew each other well before he knew of Kyuubi, but he’s hard-pressed to deny the fact that the nine-tailed beast most lore refers to as a demon, refers to as Kyuubi, once known as a destroyer of worlds, at the very least, is drawn to his magic.

 

Ultimately, though, the lore surrounding the origin of magic is sketchy in at best; over a thousand years ago, when Earth was destroyed during the First Great War, the ancient tailed beasts were released, and the first magic users began to appear.  That’s the gist of it.  Even counting the stories passed among the surviving generations of magic users, there’s no verified or standard account of what happened.

 

Although as old as Kyuubi is, he doesn’t remember a lot of things.  He doesn’t remember how he found his way to Naruto, doesn’t remember a name other than Kyuubi, if he even had a family, only blurs of deep-seated emotion, brief glimpses into a past he’s long since forgotten.

 

And maybe that’s why, for much more than the sake of his own continued existence, Kyuubi truly does care for Naruto. 

 

“I wonder if that’s why Juugo reacted so strongly to you.  He didn’t say anything about being able to sense Kyuubi’s aura.  As open as he was about my life magic, if he did sense Kyuubi, I think he would’ve brought it up earlier.  But since you and Kyuubi are such a part of each other, I’m thinking maybe that threw Juugo off.”

 

“I thought he just got really angry.”

 

“Not because of me.”

 

“No, Sasuke, it was definitely because of you.”  Naruto gives him a wry stare.  “Didn’t seem like he was under your Influence, though.”

 

Sasuke shakes his head.  “Not specifically, I mean.  Considering I was the first person he’s seen in a long time, developing that kind of emotional attachment makes sense.”

 

It’s hard to construct a timeline between Juugo’s capture, the prison being abandoned, and when he first met Juugo.  There’s no way of knowing if Juugo’s lack of memory is a result of experimentation, being imprisoned by a collar somehow coupled to his life force, or just a consequence of living in seclusion without any human contact for so long.

 

“But it’s like I said, with Juugo’s ability to sense magical auras, he knew I had life magic as soon as he saw me.  That’s how he even found me.”

 

“What about when he said being around you keeps him calm?”

 

“Not by using my empathy intentionally.”

 

“I don’t know, Sasuke.  For a guy who just met you, he got attached pretty quick.  I’m telling you.  There was some serious killing intent heading my way.”

 

Sasuke snorts, knowing not to take the words in earnest.  “I told you not to provoke him, which you did, anyway.  He wasn’t worried about himself.  He was more afraid you’d do something to me.  I don’t know how you can confuse that with killing intent.”

 

“Hey.  You want to spin it as a simple misunderstanding.  I call it doing what I’m supposed to do.”  Naruto gives an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.  “But even if me and Kyuubi managed to throw Juugo off, what throws me off, is knowing there’s someone out there who can read magical auras.

 

“Sensing someone’s magical signature is one thing, but pinpointing elemental magic right off the bat, that’s, uh, that’s a little personal for me.  It hits kind of close to home, don’t you think?”

 

Sasuke gives a vague hum.  However natural the ability comes to Juugo, it is pretty invasive.  Being able to hide the ability to use magic is still in some places considered a necessary line of defence, because only magic users are capable of recognising each other on sight.  Even among the most powerful magic users, the only way to truly get around it is with shadow magic, by using a cloaking technique, which is why Juugo wasn’t able to sense Itachi’s presence.

 

But identifying magic users based on their elemental type, especially since overall the magic user community is already so small, and techniques and certain elements can often be associated with specific families, the possible repercussions from anyone having that kind of sensory ability go much deeper.

 

“I won’t disagree with you,” he says, “but I think part of that is because Juugo’s from a different time.  He doesn’t even know how long he’s been down there, but say Barrah somehow hasn’t been affected by everything happening on the outside, not until Orochimaru came around.

 

“You saw those murals.  How old they looked.  Even Juugo said the technology in the prison is more advanced than what his people had access to.  And in a place where the majority of people could read magical auras, adding to the fact their ability to use elemental magic was just something lost over time, what would they have to gain by keeping their magic hidden?”

 

“I’ll give you that one.  His speech is a little old fashioned.  Even with the accent.  Definitely reminds me of Shadow Number Two.  Still think it’s pretty invasive, though.”

 

“Juugo didn’t have the same training we did.  I don’t think he can help it.”

 

“Not that I’m saying it’s his fault, but, yeah—anyway, I guess that’s it, then.”  Naruto bends his knees as he begins to stand.  Flexing his fingers, he stretches his hands high above his head, while craning his neck, then lowers his arms at his sides.  “I know it hasn’t been that long, but we should probably try to make the most of the time we have left.  If that dunemite’s still out there, I don’t want to face that thing when it’s dark and below freezing, you know.”

 

Sasuke agrees with a low hum, using both hands to push off the floor.

 

“Worst case scenario,” Naruto says, looking down as he pats the front of his pants, “we come back here to pick up the packs, and then head out for the cave.  It doesn’t look too good right now, but—”

 

Hand stilled on the zipper of his jacket, Sasuke peers up, searching Naruto’s face for whatever caused the abrupt pause.  What he finds, however, is remnants of a spider web tangled in Naruto’s hair, a good bit of it stuck to Naruto’s forehead, spilling over to the side his face, and when their eyes meet, Naruto blanches with a sharp intake of breath.

 

Then comes the inevitable shrieking.

 

“Oh, my god, dead people souls!  The dead people souls, one of them got me, Sasuke!  You have to get it off me!  Get it off me, Sasuke—the dead people souls, hit me before it attacks one of us with deadly possession!”

  
In between Naruto’s seemingly endless mantra of _dead people souls_ , Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy sigh, because Naruto doesn’t need to be possessed if he really does want to get hit that badly.

 

As long as they’ve known each other, there are just some things about Naruto he has no choice but to acknowledge.  Like the fact that being prone to clumsiness doesn’t detract from Naruto’s other aptitudes as a pilot or a mechanic, alongside the fact his loud and overbearing personality doesn’t make him any less capable of being tactically shrewd in serious situations.

 

“I knew we should’ve stayed away from this hellhole.  I told you there were dead people souls out there, didn’t I?  I kept telling everyone ghosts were real, but now we’re going to get the life sucked out of us, and your brother’s still going to find a way to blame me for it.” 

 

Of course, none of Naruto’s shortcomings have a bearing on the extent of his magical ability, how formidable he actually is when he decides to put his mind to it, because it’s still kind of impressive that he’s able to wield so much magic with one hand, yet sometimes, it really is hard to reconcile that side of Naruto with the Naruto still flailing in front of him, the one more liable to run into a wall and knock himself unconscious.

 

Dropping his hand, he releases another heavy sigh, because he can only put up with this side of Naruto for so long.  “It’s just a spider web, you big baby.  Hold still, so I can get it for you.”

 

Not unreluctant, Naruto holds himself still, shoulders bunched, ready to jump out of his skin.  As Sasuke takes a step towards him, he shuts his eyes tight, features scrunched, wearing the most pathetic and ridiculous looking expression.

 

“I can’t believe you’re still afraid of ghosts.”  With both hands, Sasuke reaches to carefully remove pieces of the fragmented web sticking to Naruto’s face, gently brushing away the remains from Naruto’s hair. 

 

“Oh, yeah, well…what’s there not to be afraid of?” is Naruto’s sullen retort, followed up with a deeply affected sniff, but he continues to hold his head high when Sasuke nearly slips on the smile he’s trying to hide.  “Knowing the things _you_ can do—knowing the things _I_ can do, not to mention the grouchy guy upstairs, and you’re telling me you don’t believe in ghosts.”

 

“Why do you keep trying to make up excuses for people to hit you?”

 

Crossing his arms, Naruto tries to stare him down.

 

Sasuke stares back.  “Ghosts aren’t real.”

                                                                                                                         

Naruto throws his hands up in an overstated huff.  “Says the guy who can pull fire out of thin air,” he mutters.  “No, lost temporal spirits that can inflict deadly possession on you, that’s where you decide to draw the line.”

 

“No, where I draw the line for suspendingbelief, is when you use a word like temporal as if you actually know what it means.”

 

Naruto sucks his teeth.  “Fine.  Be that way, you puffed up jerk.”  He points at Sasuke’s chest, going the distance when he extends his arm to give Sasuke an extra firm prod with his finger.  “Just don’t expect me to jump in the line of fire when the time comes.  Because I’m just going to tell you I told you so.”

 

Not in the least affected by Naruto’s peevish glare, Sasuke gives a soft hum, grabbing Naruto’s hand with both of his own.

 

Naruto heaves a sigh, shoulders deflating, but he doesn’t pull away.  “You don’t always have to do that, you know.  It’s not like I can’t—”

 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.  This is just to give me something to do.”

 

“Sasuke…”

 

Sasuke lets go of Naruto’s hand.  “You don’t always have to bring it up, either.”

 

“Yeah.”  Naruto scratches the side of his head, fingers running through his hair.  “Yeah, all right.  Let’s start tracking back, then,” he says, taking out his flashlight and heading for the open doorway.  “Explore some more.  See if there’s something we might’ve missed.”

 

Sasuke isn’t far behind.  Naruto’s strides are short.  The pace he sets is slow.

 

While Naruto takes the right side of the corridor, Sasuke takes the left.  His hand strays to the wall, cool beneath his touch, as his fingers trail along the smooth surface, searching for non-existent grooves.

 

As efficient as this place is, that it’s still able to run on some kind of self-sustaining power system, logic dictates there has to be more to the prison than its maze of cells and a storeroom.

 

Like before, they’re searching for anything out of the ordinary, even the slightest detail that seems out of place.  Already, they covered the vents, one of the more obvious places to look, although those had been initially hard to spot, well-concealed from inside the dark celling; the vents weren’t much more than a systematic string of multiple slits freely arranged into small, truncated circles, much less large enough for a finger to slip through.

 

They still haven’t ruled out the possibility of a hidden access panel that would open an unseen door, or the switch to trigger an overcomplicated mechanism that would reveal an ominous looking stairwell leading to an evil lair on the basement floor (the latter being entirely the sole product of Naruto’s overactive imagination), although it seems more a matter of luck as to whether they’ll uncover whatever area, or areas, may be hidden within the prison.

 

However, just like before, they’re right back where they started.

 

“Why’d you stop?”

 

Not realising he had, Sasuke looks over to Naruto standing beside him.  “How long have you been standing there?”

 

“A couple seconds.  Not long.” 

 

“…oh.”

 

Naruto bites at the corner of his lip, glancing at Sasuke’s hand still touching the wall.

 

Sasuke pulls his hand away, resisting the childish urge to hide it from Naruto’s curious gaze.

 

“I know you’ve kind of done something like it before, but since your empathy’s been more sensitive lately, can you actually...”

 

Since developing empathy, as a consequence of learning to supress it, he also developed a necessary level of emotional detachment, somewhat of an acquired reflex that keeps his empathy manageable, helps to keep him from being completely overwhelmed by other people’s emotions; otherwise, it probably would drive him insane.

 

It serves more as a buffer, though.  He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to completely shut everything out, yet even with his empathy at a tolerable state, occasionally, unintentionally, he’s able to pick up on lingering sensations, residual emotions in places, or even in inanimate objects,if the emotions tied to them were strong enough, and were left within a very recent period of time.

 

If empathy’s thought of strictly as an additional sense, like a sense of smell, maybe, it’s not that farfetched to think people can leave traces of their emotions, especially when they’re passionate about something.  Magic users are already able to sense and distinguish magical energies.  As a life user, he can also do the same with life energies.

 

Still, with residual emotions, as far as being able to sense any within the prison, there probably was a point when it could’ve applied to Juugo, but Juugo’s already made peace with what happened to him.

 

“Even if I could, something that far back—whatever I may have been able to pick up here is probably gone by now, but I wouldn’t know for sure unless I let down my shields.”

 

“Can’t be that long ago,” Naruto says, thinking out loud.  “Not that I’m asking you to leave yourself open like that,” he rushes out.  “Or saying that you should even try it right now, but for a prison that still looks like this, I’m starting to think whoever it was behind this place bailed pretty recently.”

 

“Me, too.  But why, though.”Sasuke tilts his head back, staring at the dark ceiling, hands resting inside the pockets of his jacket.  He isn’t looking for anything particular, just letting himself rest for a few more seconds, but that’s when he sees it.

 

It’s the slightest discolouration, what at first looks like the most impossibly vague, wide, u-shaped impression, slightly raised against the bright white of the wall.  After examining it a little more, it actually looks like an inverted petal, largely broad from its centre, curved at the bottom, tapered to a delicate point nearest to the top.

 

He calls to Naruto with a soft murmur, eyes narrowed at the faint impression, not wanting to risk looking away.  Blink and it’s too easy to miss.  Hard to differentiate from the rest of the wall smoothed around it, blurred into the haze of a ubiquitous glow from the modulated array of light.

 

With a short rustle, with a brief squeak from his boots scraping against the floor, two steps lead Naruto to Sasuke’s side.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“Up there.  Some kind of petal-shaped impression.”  Sasuke gestures towards it with a slight tilt of his head.

 

Naruto follows the motion, flashlight pointed towards the intersection between the wall and the ceiling.  “I don’t see it.”

 

“You’re looking too high.  Turn the light off.”  Sasuke makes a blind reach for Naruto’s left arm, pushing Naruto behind him, as Naruto lowers his other arm and puts the flashlight away.  “Now look up.”

 

Naruto squints, peering up from over Sasuke’s shoulder, cheek brushing against the side of Sasuke’s face.  It takes him a moment to find the impression.  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbles.  “Seriously.  A small looking petal like that, I mean, I can see it now, only because you said something.  But you can barely make it out as it is.”

 

“Looks like you can only see it at a certain vantage point.  Doubt I would’ve caught it if I wasn’t already standing here.”

 

“No wonder we’ve been running in circles all this time.  Weird.”

 

“…yeah.”  Sasuke makes another reach for Naruto’s arm, this time repositioning Naruto in front of him, guiding Naruto towards the wall and a little more to the right.  “I need you to lift me up so I can get a closer look.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Sasuke’s already poised with a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, waiting for Naruto to comply.  “Give me a boost.”

 

“Give me a boost,” Naruto mimics, making a silly face at Sasuke’s expectant gaze.  “It’s always, _Give me this, Naruto,_ or _, Do that for me, Naruto_ , with you.  A please would be nice every once in a while, you know.”  He spreads his feet apart, stance wide as he bends his knees, arms dropped with his fingers linkedin front of him.

 

“It’s nice you think that.”  Bracing himself against Naruto’s shoulder, Sasuke carefully steps onto Naruto’s hands, pushing off with his other foot in tandem with Naruto standing from his knees to hoist him up.

 

As high as Naruto can carry him, there’s still a good amount of space between his head and the ceiling, but he’s brought high enough that he’s directly facing the impression, on either side of it his forearms propped against the wall.

 

“You good up there?”

 

“It’s still faint, but I…”  Sasuke frowns, placing a hand against the impression, covering the petal beneath his palm.  “I think it might be some kind of…”

 

There’s a soft sort of whirring sound.  As he soon as he pulls his hand from the wall, right below the petal, taking up the same width, a thin line of light flickers between white and pale green.  Filled in the petal itself, there’s the same momentary flicker of light.

 

At another soft whir, he looks up, where suddenly above him there’s a square opening, about the size of a small window, its top flush with the ceiling.  Looks like it could lead to some kind of air duct, but it doesn’t seem like air’s coming from it.

 

“What’d you break now?”

 

“Not sure yet.”  Sasuke glances down at Naruto.  “Can you get me up there?”

 

“Hold on.  Give me a sec.”  Supporting most of Sasuke’s weight, Naruto keeps his arms steady around Sasuke’s legs, pushing him up a little higher.  “Sure you can even fit?”

 

“I’m going to have to.” 

 

Sasuke rides with the additional momentum from Naruto’s push, with a grunt gripping the ledge of the opening and pulling himself up, taking a few seconds to catch his breath once he’s inside.  Instead of an air duct, it’s a crawl space, empty from top to bottom, sans even cables or pipes, just a short passage enclosed by the same white walls making up most of the prison.

 

The fit’s a little tight, but it’s not so narrow that he can’t make it through, forcing him to manoeuvre on his elbows and knees, the hilt of his retracted sword occasionally grazing the wall.  It doesn’t take him very far.  The end of the crawl space is closed off, but he finds a set of faint impressions, vague outlines that divide the small expanse of wall into a grid, a square of three rows and three columns, all of it coloured white, each block the same size.

 

With his fingers he traces an invisible path connecting each block.  He hesitates when he reaches the last block in the far right corner, but then starts to push his hand forward, little by little, applying more pressure until the block is depressed with a sharp click.

 

Again, there’s another one of those whirring sounds, this time coming from beneath the crawl space.

 

“The hidden room door we were kind of joking about earlier,” Naruto calls out, “uh, I think you found it.”

 

Apparently, Naruto actually was right.  This really did end up being a series of Pythagorean-esque switches to trigger an overcomplicated mechanism.  It probably can be opened remotely, which he and Naruto don’t have the means to do, but as to why anyone would want to go through hassle of such a convoluted process, even if it does in fact lead to a hidden room, it just seems like there’d be better ways.

 

Sasuke starts to sidle back, letting Naruto know he’s getting ready to come down.  He begins to lower himself from the opening of the crawlspace, gripping the ledge, then letting go.

 

Although he lands on his feet, he starts to sway a little too much to the side, light-headed for a moment, trying not to lose his balance.  The hand on his arm prevents him from falling, and he looks up, blinking at the black spots in front of him, waiting for his vision to clear, swallowing at the sight of blue eyes peering too closely into his own.

 

“…thanks.”

 

Face blank, Naruto lets him go.  “Don’t mention it.”

 

Sasuke straightens his jacket, pulling at the material from where it’d risen up along his side.

 

“Can’t really say I was expecting this,” Naruto says, turning towards the area beneath the crawlspace, scanning the open doorway where a segment of solid wall had been.

 

Inside it looks like an antechamber, around the same size of the storeroom, poorly lit by the pale green light placed above an opaque door on the other side.

 

“I wasn’t actually being serious about the whole finding an evil lair thing, you know, but considering that you just happened to stop right here.  Just happened to look up when you did.  Don’t you think that’s a little…”

 

“It could be a lot of things.  But I don’t know what to think about any of this right now.”

 

“Fair enough,” Naruto concedes, pulling out his flashlight.  “Pretty sure this place wasn’t built to offer nice accommodations for a three-day stay.  But it’s already a prison on some far off uncharted planet.  Why the need for this kind of hidden room?”

 

He shines the light into the room, before taking a cautious step forward, signalling behind him for Sasuke to stay.  “Wait here.” 

 

Sasuke doesn’t, following him inside, yet he’s no more than three steps in when Naruto swings back around, flashlight gripped at his side, lens pointed at the floor.

 

“Sasuke, I told you to—” 

 

“Either you want me to stay close, or you don’t.”

 

“…why do you always have to fight me about these things?”  Naruto gives him another one of those strange looks, a misplaced sort of nonchalant smile, free hand giving a half-hearted tug to Sasuke’s jacket.  “Why can’t you just listen to what I say?”

 

 “I would’ve said something if I sensed anyone else.”

 

Releasing Sasuke’s jacket, Naruto sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Just because I’m not taller than you anymore, doesn’t mean I stopped being older than you.  I thought that actually still had to count for—”  He pauses, light flashing over the floor as he kneels down to pick up a small black box. 

 

“…huh.  It’s a box.”  With the barrel of the flashlight, he raps on the box twice.  “A very hard, metal box.  Keyless, too.”

 

“Does it open?”  Sasuke holds out his hand, offering to take the flashlight.  “I don’t see any hinges.”

 

“Looks like it should flip open.  Can’t really tell, but there’s an indentation that goes right around the middle.  Might just be stuck.  So if I—yep, there it is.”

 

Inside the box, by itself, lays flat a matching band, a bracelet that at first glance looks like a small replica of the collar Juugo had been wearing.  It’s a solid piece of metal, with no visible latch to uncouple it, mostly plain.  Unlike Juugo’s collar, however, the bracelet bears a somewhat ornate design, more moderate than anything that could be considered fancy, trimmed by two fine lines of silver weaved along the edges, bordering at opposite sides.

 

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that.  I’m not going to put it on or anything.”  Naruto snorts, removing the bracelet from the box and turning it over in his hand.  “It’d be nice if you had a little more faith in me.” 

 

“More than you need to know,”  Sasuke says absently, leaning in closer to examine the bracelet.

 

By the looks of it, there’s some kind of inscription engraved inside.  Most of characters have been rubbed off, too obscured to make anything out of it, but what he can piece together is a few horizontal lines, some running along the top of symmetrical, seemingly elaborate rounded shapes.  At any rate, it’s not a script he’s familiar with.

 

“Kind of small to see, but…”  Naruto flips the bracelet over.  “Doesn’t look like any language I know.”

 

“I don’t remember seeing anything like it on Juugo’s collar.”  Then again, Sasuke hadn’t been too eager to get a closer look inside of it, although he hadn’t had an opportunity to, either.  As soon as the collar was pried from his hands, Juugo crushed it.

 

Naruto’s gaze turns a little more wary.  “I’m not sensing any magic from it, though.”

 

Sasuke doesn’t, either, although where he’s inherently more sensitive to life energies, Naruto has an exceedingly high sensory ability when it comes to magical signatures.

 

“Maybe it’s only activated when it comes close to someone’s life force,” Naruto says.  “There’s a pulse point on the neck, right.  Just like on the wrist, remember.  From that comparison chart you drew mapping out how life force works with the circulatory system.”

 

There’s a small twitch pulling up at the corner of Sasuke’s lips.  “You actually remember that?”

 

Naruto places the bracelet back into the box, closing the box with a snap.  “The only reason people keep calling me pushy is because they haven’t met you yet.  I mean, you wouldn’t let go of that chart for ages.  I was forced to learn things about the human body I’m still trying to forget.  All because you turned out to be the worst kind of smart—the kind who makes me learn everything with you.”

 

Sasuke gives into a little smile, but it’s one that doesn’t stay for too long.  “The way Juugo’s life force was infused into the collar, you’re saying the collar itself was able to adapt to life energy?”

 

“Right.  Since you said it still felt like magic to you.  Just wrong and unnatural.  Because you have life magic.  Going by what you said, that means somehow the collar was able to manipulate Juugo’s life force like it was magical energy.  But here’s the rub.

 

“If by using Juugo’s life force is supposed to be how the collar works, then does that make the collar some type of magical technology?”  Naruto frowns at the box.  “Sounds like an oxymoron, I know.  But a device powered by something most people don’t even realise is there, isn’t that textbook definition?”

 

There’ve been attempts to develop magical technology before, to serve as a means to bridge the gap between magic users and non-magic users, because ofthe assumed advantage by some of having magic.  Except magical ability on its own isn’t tangible.  It’s not something than can be contained by external means, not without a magic user acting as a conduit.

 

“…I’ve always thought of my life magic as separate from my elemental magic.  So with that in mind, if someone’s life force can somehow be used like magical energy, it doesn’t seem entirely implausible.”

 

“Sure.  Either way, I’m taking it with us, just in case.”  Naruto places the box in the zippered compartment of the holster bag tucked against his side.  “Something tells me it might come in handy.”

 

Sasuke guides the flashlight as they head further into the antechamber.  Other than the box Naruto found, there’s not much more to it.  They’ll probably go over it again, after they get a chance to search what’s beyond it.

 

Naruto reaches the door first.  Just like the doors on each of the cells, this one slides open automatically when Naruto steps in front of it, revealing an even larger room, a conventional lab, extending long as it is wide.

 

It’s still an extension of the prison, maintaining that disturbingly clean sort of clinical motif, a canvas of white walls lit by a pale green glow.  But it’s also more along the lines of what he’d been expecting, filled with empty isolation chambers, large cylindrical tubes, most of them still intact, some with dangling cords, and broken pieces of thick glass littering the floor surrounding a select few.

 

As Naruto steps through the threshold, there’s a harsh crunching noise that resounds loud from beneath his boot.  Sasuke nearly bumps into him when Naruto freezes, blocking the doorway, suddenly gone utterly still.

 

Lowering the flashlight, he doesn’t wait for Naruto to let him aside, ducking past Naruto’s arm to squeeze through, but then he finds himself unable to move, because when he looks down, he sees the bones that lie scattered across the foot of the door, what he couldn’t see from over Naruto’s shoulder, the numerous piles of bones stacked on top of each other crammed near the corner of the room.

 

“…I knew it was bad,” Naruto whispers.  “Just from hearing Juugo, I knew it had to be bad.  But to see it all laid out like this, even a guy like Orochimaru wouldn’t…”

 

Sasuke stares at the shortest pile, nearly level with the floor, a collection of heavily fractured remains dumped near a small, cracked skull.

 

“…how could someone do this?”  Jaw clenched, Naruto begins to tremble, gaze shadowed, fists shaking at his sides.  “Why would anyone treat other people this way?”

Naruto’s anger pulsates between them, prickles at the edge of his consciousness, but Sasuke doesn’t flinch.  He doesn’t move.  Grip on the flashlight turned loose, he doesn’t stop staring.

 

“This isn’t right, Sasuke.” 

 

“I know, Naruto.

 

“This isn’t…”

 

“…I know.”

 

 


	5. Dirty Harry V: Feel Good Inc. (Pollyn Remix)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for verbal harassment through disturbing and violent imagery.

The reinforced outer panels did what they were equipped to do, supplemented by heat shields able to withstand the enormity of the pressure building around the ship, more than well enough to keep the hull completely intact, better than Naruto said he would’ve expected even for a Tolstoy 359 model, especially against those kinds of extremely high speeds during an atmospheric entry they were in no way prepared for.

 

That they somehow managed to even find themselves thrown into Barrah’s gravitational sphere, though, it was the strangest sort of coincidence, one Sasuke isn’t sure can really be dismissed as a coincidence at all, because the attack came with no warning, a small vessel not even half the size of the Tolstoy bashing into the broad side of the hull; the CAS hadn’t been able to detect it, and although there wasn’t substantial damage from the initial impact, it was still enough to veer them a few degrees off their established course, and caused them to be pulled into what was then an unidentified field anomaly.

 

By the time the ship’s computer had recognised they were heading toward Barrah’s lower orbit, they hadn’t been able to pick up enough speed to maintain free fall before the first wave of turbulence hit.

 

It hadn’t even been that long after they’d left the refuelling station in Selat, maybe only a couple parsecs out, probably less than six away from their scheduled arrival at Nevlana III.  He’d just left the cabin area, taking a break from finishing work for school, making his way to the control room where Itachi and Naruto were, not even halfway down the corridor when the walls began to shudder, when his view of the stars through the large windows on either side of him began to tilt.

 

Before he could even register what was happening, he’d been thrown back from the sudden shift in velocity, barely caught mid-fall by a strong grip on his arm, Naruto beside him pulling him upright, pulling him toward the control room, down the newly darkened corridor resounding with the wail of the warning siren, sprinting beneath the blare of lights nearly blinding flashing blue and white, uneven footfalls and the squeaks of Naruto’s boots filling the steady pauses between the disembodied voice from the computer’s interface.

 

_Affirming initiation of Emergency Landing Sequence.  Shields engaged at thirty-seven percent.  Ninety-three kilometres until projected impact.  Warning: Cabin altitude loss of—_

 

He’d been shoved into the nearest chair, in the second row, closest to the open doorway.  As soon as he hit the seat, quick fingers began to strap him in, helped by his weight triggering the automatic safety harness, belts further securing him uncomfortably tight to the chair, rendering him immobile, with scarcely enough room to breathe—between one moment and the next, the ship began to lurch, heave upward with a horrific creak, before Sasuke could even reach for him sending Naruto crashing against the safety rails with a loud cry.

 

_Failure to initiate Attitude Stabilisation Control System.  Sensors not detected.  Switching to LG Standby One.  Initiating safety locks for engines three and four.  Recalibration in progress.  Cabin altitude returned to within normal parameters._

 

The ship continued to plummet.  Closer and closer, through the wide expanse of the viewscreen the desert terrain grew, obscured by sand, high winds churning a waterless sea.  Unable to do anything, confined to a rattling chair, Sasuke could only watch as Naruto struggled to get back on his feet, struggled to force himself upright after being knocked down again, pushing off from the rails to meet Itachi still standing at the helm.

 

_Current fuel cell temperature exceeds normal operating temperature.  Coolant System B activated.  Shields increased to sixty-four percent.  Seventy-one percent.  Fifty-two kilometres until projected impact._

 

Over the discordant array of light and sound, he could hear Itachi telling Naruto to strap in, could still make out their faces, unconsciously drawn between a wilful Naruto with blue eyes unyielding against Itachi’s dark gaze of resolute calm.

 

_“We came in too steep—we still haven’t picked up enough drag!  We’re not slowing down fast enough!”_

 

_Override for manual input accepted.  Routing of power from auxiliary power unit three to rear thrusters in progress.  Please be advised, the release of safety locks for engines one and two will occur while autopilot is engaged.  Please be advised, environmental control and life support systems will be reduced to minimum functioning capacity.  Please be advised, optimal pressure regula—_

_“That’s an order, Uzumaki!”_

 

_“You can’t do this by yourself!”_

 

_Power to main engines increased by 147 percent.  Shields sustained at ninety-eighty percent.  Ninety-ninety percent.  One hundred six percent.  Twenty-four kilometres until projected impact.  Please be advised, current fuel cell temperature approaching maximum operating temperature.  Recommended opening of engine four coolant val—_

 

He swallowed hard at the breath hitched in his throat, tried to alleviate the negative pressure build-up in his ears, yet through the acute pain came a rushing silence, an extended moment of stillness, seemingly a moment of total free fall, of seemingly total weightlessness despite the harness that kept him held to his chair, but Itachi and Naruto, he couldn’t even—

 

Itachi had made careful use of the throttle, in between a cycle of climbs and descents trying to maintain then gradually lessen airspeed still too fast to land, trying to maximise lift so the ship wouldn’t stall less than ten kilometres from the ground.

 

Emerging from one last dive, two kilometres before projected impact one final attempt at an ascent short-lived, they shot right over a large, shallow basin, pitched up the gentle slope of a crescent dune, the bottom of the ship scraped against bits of rock hidden beneath colossal mounds of white, as they teetered through the valley of a massive dune field, where they were forced to an abrupt stop, the front half of the ship all but lodged near the base of an isolated star dune.

 

Sometime around then and point of impact, jerked forward in his seat, jerked hard against the safety belts, Sasuke blacked out.  It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, if even that, but when he opened his eyes, it was because of Naruto screaming, to the sight of Naruto trapped against his seat, pierced through his mangled arm the stinger left by the dunemite that had tried to force its way through the opened emergency hatch.

 

Released from the harness, he stumbled from his seat, stumbled to the floor, pushed up from his hands and knees—his body had simply moved.

 

Beyond the need to reach Naruto, he couldn’t think, hadn’t been aware of anything else around him.  Already he could feel Naruto’s life force waning, could even feel Kyuubi struggling to keep Naruto alive, Kyuubi calling out to him ( _tomeShakticometome_ ), beckoning him closer, his magic almost compelled responding to Kyuubi’s distress.

 

It took both hands to remove the stinger broken off in Naruto’s arm.  Wet with blood seeping through his fingers, both hands he used to cover Naruto’s wound, tried to soothe the persistent litany of _ShaktiShaktiShakti_ in the back of his mind as he pushed his life force into Naruto, a surge of energy quickly following the weakened path marking Kyuubi’s attempts, his own magic overlaid where Kyuubi’s wasn’t enough, filling in the widening gaps caused by the venom having taken effect, sealing the tears and holes too many disrupting the flow of Naruto’s life force—giving as much of himself as he could, as fast as he could, even after Naruto had fallen unconscious, not relenting until he was sure Naruto was okay, that Naruto wouldn’t be in any more pain.

 

But he’d made it to Naruto in time.

 

He was able to save him.

 

Even if it was at the expense of using too much of his life force at once, at the expense of succumbing to his magic, lapsed into a state of hushed consciousness too insistent to ignore, a comfortable lull it’d become increasingly easy not to resist, as shades of white began to blur into grey the world around him.

 

His hands released Naruto’s arm.  His gaze turned away from Naruto, to the opened hatch where his body began to lead him, to the wide door where his feet carried him through, closer still toward the dunemite his magic sought lying in wait, before the dunemite could return farther away from the ship brought deeper into the desert caught in the middle of a violent storm.

  
His gait remained steady, steps taken to an uneven surface with a fluent ease above the ground that hadn’t given way beneath him.

 

Sand whipped outside the air compressed around him, diffused with the harsh winds parting before him, revealing where the dunemite had taken shelter, behind the leeward side of a dune the creature that had threatened to take Naruto away, a mere source of life that had dared to harm one of their own.

 

As his body drew nearer, his hands gripped the hilt of the sword retracted at his waist, began to draw it, activating the emitter and releasing the blade.  Followed through his arm from his shoulder was a burning cold, approaching the dunemite within reach his magic turned ravenous, pulsating beneath his skin, coursing through his body scarcely contained—lightning emanating from his palm, erratic shards hissed crackles of light, a muffled dissonance suddenly raised sharp, a shrill crescendo echoed from the depths of the earth moved still, leaving bare remnants of scattered sands and demolished rock, as the air shuddered around him, tore fractures into the lowly howl of coarse winds.

 

The dune once offering shelter had been levelled to the ground, exposing the cowering dunemite that then scurried, in the middle of a desert storm with nowhere to hide attempted to escape his magic on such feeble legs.

 

His body began to stalk toward it.  Faster his feet began to move, gathering speed, charging forward with both hands lifting his sword in a high arc, unleashing a concentrated wave of magic, a loosely coiled helix of fire and lightning rapidly moving, a devastating ripple laying waste to everything in its path, ripping through the dunemite’s smouldering flesh, its already segmented body broken asunder.

 

By then, whatever adrenaline driving him had worn off, his magic returned to its normal calm, a soothing, ever-present hum.  His arms became heavy, dropped under the weight of his sword despite its blade withdrawn.  Out of his hands the sword fell.  With the dunemite no longer a threat, knowing Naruto would be safe, his eyes were allowed to close, his body allowed to rest, giving into an exhaustion that left him unable to stand, legs buckling beneath him, unconscious before his head even met the ground.

 

With neither Naruto nor Itachi by his side, for the first time he’d truly been on his own, left by his magic uncomfortably exposed.

 

He should only be so lucky it was Juugo who found him.

 

Since waking up, however, every time he’s tried to remember, it just turns into this vague recollection of distorted thought, smatterings of mismatched imagery, rearranged each time into smaller and smaller pieces, continuously slipped from his grasp an uncertain memory too obscured.

 

Because it doesn’t happen often, though, it’s not something he usually has to worry about.  He doesn’t make a habit of using so much of his life force, definitely not to the point where it’s nearly depleted, yet if he hadn’t fully given into his magic, he wouldn’t have been able to save Naruto.  And for his magic to even take over like that, with how much it’d actually taken to heal Naruto, it’s only a natural response whenever his emotions feel too…

 

But if Naruto hadn’t wasted those first few seconds trying to get to him, trying to make sure he was safe,  then maybe Naruto wouldn’t have gotten trapped against the seat, wouldn’t have been left vulnerable, wouldn’t have been screaming and bleeding out all over the floor, wouldn’t have almost di—

 

Sasuke wills himself to breathe in, breathes out, staring down at Naruto’s PCD sitting in his lap, for the umpteenth time reminding himself that Naruto really is okay, still here, just below deck, tinkering with the fuel cell batteries in the extremely cramped engine room, every once in a while mumbling to himself, what Sasuke designated as white noise, Naruto airing his grievances about being stranded in the middle of a hellhole with nothing but a prayer and a freaking pleasure cruiser to get them home.

 

_“I don’t even have to look at the thing funny, but apparently even that’s enough to set it off.”_

 

Despite Naruto’s continued tirade about useless automated safety features that shouldn’t come standard without independent safety locks—about the needlessly overcomplicated repair process for Tolstoy models in general—the 359 on its own is notable for its defensive features and overall durability, considered one of the safest models out there, pretty durable even for its commercial line of ships; that isn’t even including the host of additional features and precautions specially catered to the security needs of dignitaries and other important public figures.

 

The 359 may not be a heavily armoured warship or military grade armed fighter, but it’s more than sturdy enough where it counts.

 

All things considered, even Naruto had to acknowledge the overall damage wasn’t as bad as he remembered it being, especially under the circumstances.  Engine-wise, though, it doesn’t look like they’ll be able to fix what’s wrong any time soon.  They’re still having issues with the lack of power going directly to the engines, plus the fact any corresponding modules keep cutting off whenever they attempt to run the diagnostic programme.  The fuel cell stacks themselves are fine, yet, for whatever reason, the batteries aren’t able to sustain a charge long enough for the engines to turn over.

 

As far as the ship’s other systems, they’ve been able to get most of them back online. Environmental control systems are still working through ancillary power.  The much needed ventilation is finally back up, rotating between minimum capacity and full blast, mostly for the sake of keeping the ship cool in this ridiculous heat, but also to keep the ports and channels from getting clogged with the sand that had already gotten into the ship, alongside whatever dust and particles they’ve picked up since the crash.

 

Airtight isn’t synonymous with unfailing (pressure differentials make sure of that),and considering how quickly sandstorms can form and just as suddenly stop, coupled with such rapid temperature changes, with something as abrasive and pervading as sand, Naruto’s hoping sand getting in more sensitive places didn’t cause a short somewhere they couldn’t reach without having to take the ship apart.

 

Although at this rate, with how bad the storm hit last night, the front half of the ship having sunken further into a near veritable sand trap, fixing the engines won’t matter if the ship ends up buried beneath a pile of sand.

 

Exterior repairs had been relatively quick, one of the first things Naruto had seen to when they first returned to the ship.  Some minor welding, hammering out a few dents here and there, adjusting the pressurised hinges of the emergency hatch that was all but dangling off the side of the ship. 

 

As severe as the crash was, really, it’s amazing they weren’t crushed upon impact, never mind how the ship managed to survive in one piece; on average, the outer shields were only roughly reduced to eighty percent capacity.  And despite the dunemite having slashed at the hull, trying to enlarge an opening it was too large to fit through, its piercers hadn’t caused much more than cosmetic damage, nowhere near having to declare the ship a hull loss.

 

If they had access to a repair bay, there’s little doubt the ship would’ve been up and running days ago.

 

Technology’s advanced to the point that most repairs, including hull salvage, can be done without human interference.  It’s preferred, actually.  Most repair bays, even the older ones, run on an automated system, anyway.  They’re more efficient, too, instead of relying on more traditional tools that would take weeks, or even months, making the repairs not only more labour-intensive, but also requiring specialised skills from a technician qualified to work on a machine as sophisticated and complex as a spacecraft.

 

Still, Naruto’s surprisingly a little more old-fashioned than most people would probably take him for, not always so reliant on technology, from time to time favouring to check over certain things for himself.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sasuke places Naruto’s PCD on the console, attention unwillingly caught by the sound of Naruto’s voice travelling up from below deck, echoing in the control room the beginnings of another one of Naruto’s absolutely horrifying attempts at sweet talk he’s regrettably spent the better part of today being subjected to.

 

 

“Atta girl,” Naruto begins to coo, engaging in the strangest, most embarrassing one-sided conversation Sasuke’s had the misfortune of hearing, just as highly disturbing as it was to hear the first time around, those first series of hapless pleas trying to coax the ship back to life through words alone, as if something like that would ever work.

“So far, so good, you can do it for me.  Come on, baby.  Don’t give up on me now.  Oh, yeah, just like that—there you go.  You know you want to do it.  I know you want to make this easy on us both.  All you have to do is let Uzumaki Naruto get you started.”

 

At a complete loss for words, Sasuke can’t help the appalled look on his face, if possible, even more highly perturbed.  He turns around, one knee pressed against the seat, both arms crossed draped over the back of the chair, gaze drawn to the floor near the corner of the room, staring at the once concealed hatch revealing a metal ladder leading down to the engine room.

 

He really wishes he had something to throw at Naruto, really, really wishes he hadn’t already borne witness to Naruto gently stroking one of those cylindrical fuel tubes with entirely too much care—really, just _really_ wishes Naruto would stop.

 

“That’s right.  Let Uzumaki Naruto’s very special mojo work on you.  Come on, that’s it, baby, come on.  You’re already doing so good.  Just keep giving it to me.  Keep giving me a little more.  Just a little bit—”

 

There’s a loud clanking noise, followed by an even louder cry of pain cut short by a muffled curse.

 

Sasuke frowns.  “You break anything yet?”

 

“Your continued lack of faith in me,” Naruto calls out, “didn’t we already talk about this?  I know we already talked about this.”

 

“You’ve been attempting to work your extremely disturbing mojo since we got here.  To no avail.”

 

“You know what—shut it.  Nobody asked for your opinion, all right.  It’s not my fault this is the one ship out of all the ships I’ve worked on that actually hates me.”

 

“The feeling’s mutual.”

 

“That’s not called being helpful, Sasuke.  That’s called not contributing to the cause.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to be helpful,” Sasuke says, completely ignoring Naruto’s indignant squawk, because after the very unsettling and repeated experience that is having to listen to Naruto’s brand of sweet talk, Naruto deserves no less.  “But if you’re lost down there, I can always pull up the operations manual on your PCD, and read the technical layout to you.”

 

There’s another loud clanking noise, something else that must’ve fallen to the floor.  “Don’t you even start that with me—the last thing I need is directions from a ridiculously unhelpful guy like you.  I know my way around this ship by now, okay.  I know I can fix her.”

 

Sasuke turns back around in his chair with an amused snort, keeping one leg bent on the seat, reaching again for Naruto’s PCD, plugging it into the ship’s console.

 

As easy-going as Naruto is, when it comes to anyone intruding on his workspace, that’s one of the very few times where he chooses to be picky, almost obnoxiously so, very rarely allowing Sasuke to meddle with his so-called process.

 

Naruto already shooed him away once this morning.  They’d arrived at the ship fairly early, making good time, while it was still dark, and a little colder than Sasuke had been anticipating.  Initially, he’d tried to help with the engine repairs, tried being the operative word, because Naruto’s hands were on his shoulders, marching him away from the engine room’s hatch and toward the front of the control room, settling him right back in the co-pilot’s chair.

 

_“So what, you expect to me to just sit here all day doing nothing?”_

_“No, I expect you to trust me because I know what I’m doing.  I got this, all right—I totally got this.”_

_“Really, Naruto?”_

_“Really.  Besides, it’s still pretty early.  And this would probably be a good time for you to try catching up on some sleep.”_

_“…it hasn’t been helping.”_

_“But it hasn’t been hurting, either, right?  And according to professional military opinion, you’re still in the very obvious stage of looking like total shit walking, so obviously, in order to save your appearance, you’re going to need all the sleep you can ge—”_

 

Sasuke responded by digging into Naruto’s bag, pulling out the first thing he’d touched, an REM labelled pasta bolognese he then immediately proceeded to throw hard at Naruto’s head, because he wasn’t going to take that kind of insult from some useless, scruffy-looking dumb idiot who still couldn’t even iron his own uniform properly without burning a hole through his clothes.

 

_“You take that back, Sasuke—who do you think you’re calling scruffy-looking?  At least I’m not the stupid idiot who looks like death warmed over, like a gentle breeze would be more than enough to sweep me off my—”_

 

 (The only reason Naruto had even been able to dodge the second pouch was because Sasuke purposely missed.)

 

That wasn’t even eight hours ago.  In between then and now, Naruto had caught him nodding off a few times, again tried to convince him to sleep, but Sasuke shrugged him off, pointedly looking away from the newly left scratches along Naruto’s arms not covered by rolled up sleeves, reading through a live version of the system configuration he’d downloaded to Naruto’s PCD, forcing himself to stay awake.

 

Even if Naruto weren’t so territorial about his workspace, there’s barely enough room for Naruto to manoeuvre down there on his own, too tight a fit if Sasuke tried to squeeze through alongside him, much less is there enough comfortable breathing space for more than one person—rather than an actual room, it’s an underpass of small compartments intersected by narrow shafts, spanning from beneath the control room to the centre of the ship.

 

While Naruto’s been working down in the engine room, Sasuke’s stayed up here monitoring the console, tracking the ship’s status on the modules laid across the large viewscreen, searching for any discrepancies or notable patterns that may help pinpoint why the engines keep stalling.

 

There isn’t much he can actually do in the way of mechanical repairs.  Although he knows enough to get by with simple fixes, with what he lacks in practical experience and specialised training, reading can only take him so far.

 

It’s Naruto’s forte, anyway.  He’s always been a hands-on type of guy, always able to more quickly pick up on things he learns by doing, and aerospace mechanics is an area where he’s really been able to excel, further driven by the same sense of awe he’s held ever since his dad gave him his first model ship.

 

His dad was the one who taught him how to fly, started teaching him the basics when he was ten.  He even got approved for a private license last year, already has a preliminary military permit to operate both aircraft and spacecraft, because he’s already been guaranteed a spot in the SFTI programme after graduation.

 

An overly idealistic guy like that, he still has that same collection of timeworn model ships, still gets that same starry-eyed expression whenever he gets carried away talking about flying.

 

Certainly, Naruto’s more mechanically inclined than him in that regard, yet what Sasuke knows about the software aspect, that much he can at least put to use.

 

It’s something he sort of fell into.  He’s not the best at programming, but he’s gradually getting better, and his parents have been pushing to him to seriously consider what he plans to do after high school.  Post-secondary education has always been the safe option, and there are plenty of good schools right outside the Capital; as far as grades are concerned, that’s never been a problem, because it’s not like he’s had the chance to pursue much else.

 

It’s just, with all the limitations that come alongside being a life user, he still doesn’t know where he’s going to end up in two years, doesn’t even want to think about what he’s going to do with himself after Naruto graduates the Academy next year, but already he feels stuck, like he’s being left behind, while everyone else seems able to move on.

 

Naruto won’t always be there.  Of course, he doesn’t expect Naruto to wait on him forever, and he’d never expect Naruto to give up what he loves doing, not even for his sake.  But if Naruto ever tried to pander to him with that kind of mawkish grand sentiment, honestly, Sasuke would punch him.

 

Unlikely as that is to happen, though, maybe continuing school to study aerospace engineering has become a more acceptable kind of plausible, less of a compromise, less of a pitiful, last-ditch childish attempt to compensate for being denied even the opportunity to apply to the Academy, for not even being given the choice to follow in his brother’s footsteps and join the military.

 

Ironic enough, his family has a long-standing history of serving in the military, even before the early days of the Alliance, tracing all the way back to the warring states period, beginning with their involvement in a small little police force, the first of its kind to be established on Nagi—and he’s always wanted to be part of that, to be part of that tradition passed down through generations, to be like his brother, to be like his mom and his dad.

 

When he was younger, he practically lived in Itachi’s old uniform jacket, in clothes that swamped him would walk around the house with Itachi’s helmet constantly falling over his face, because there was nothing yet that could convince him he wouldn’t grow up to be just like his brother someday, just like everyone else in their family, only to one day suddenly have life magic, one day suddenly be told he was too different to be treated like everyone else.

 

More or less, he’s accepted that he won’t be a fighter pilot, not in this lifetime, but he’s borrowed Naruto’s access codes enough times trying to make up for it with hours spent in the flight simulation chambers.

 

Laws preventing him from joining the military aside, his parents wouldn’t sign off on it, anyway.  They won’t even let him travel off base by himself, even going to the Capital for his monthly appointment with Iyashi, but it wasn’t the kind of decision he hasn’t come to expect by now.

 

Technically, he’s only considered a minor for certain things, not including interstellar travel.  Legally, in the sense of how it pertains to him being a life user, he isn’t allowed to travel alone without either a legal guardian or parental consent assigning him an approved guardian; as a registered magic user, it actually reads that on his passport, among other stipulations due to being a life user, which is frankly a little more alarming than it is embarrassing.

 

But with the mandatory standards that have been implemented, with how safe and affordable interstellar travel has become, he’s also at the age where most parents would probably think nothing of letting their kids travel alone.

 

Given that, it’s a wonder he even bothered to ask if he could visit Kurl this past summer break, see for himself up close what was suspected to be one of the very first colonies from Earth, the Haakonian ruins purported to be what’s left of a city that may have been one of the first places where magic users began to appear.

 

His parents hadn’t taken him seriously, and he wasn’t sure he was being entirely serious to begin with.  He got the idea from a conversation he’d happened to hear in passing, between two trainees openly discussing where to spend the brief summer leave that was given to all students in the Academy.

Apart from superstition that’s kept it alive as a popular tourist trap, the same superstition that also played into early anti-magic sentiment, Kurl doesn’t officially hold any historical or archaeological significance.  It’s usually just referred to as the Lost Colony; supposedly, seven years after Earth was destroyed, all the colonists simply disappeared, leaving behind no trace, but with such inconclusive evidence surrounding an event that occurred so long ago, there’s nothing to say the colonists hadn’t just decided to relocate.

 

It’s not that his parents were necessarily against the idea of him going to Kurl.  Anything that has to do with the history of magic, especially life magic, they recognise how important it is to him, and they’ve been completely supportive.  Where their concern lies is with his empathy and his Influence, specifically his inability to control those aspects of his magic and how people may react to him because of it.  Too many unpredictable variables that can’t always be accounted for, he’s been told. 

 

With public interstellar travel, especially considering how congested it can be at times, the people around him were far less likely to be magic users, and consequently unable to shield their emotions, without the training or even the natural inclination that comes from having empathy.  It’s more than enough cause for his parents to believe any kind of public travel would heighten the risk of him having an empathetic attack; whereas on base, with the majority of people surrounding him being magic users, in the years since he’s moved there, it really has been a nonissue.

 

Yet even if his parents were to somehow overlook that, with the recent discovery of how much more erratically non-magic users tended to respond to his Influence, letting him travel without dedicated security still isn’t something they feel comfortable with.  Having him travel at all takes considerable preparation.  It costs money, takes up time and resources, more so the trips off world than off base, and after the incident on Gade II, caught in the crossfire simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time, it’s just been easier on his parents to have him stay grounded.

 

In the end, the rogue faction that had attacked Sakura’s team really had nothing to do with him.  Although the Alliance and the Federation are considered the two major players in regards to interstellar relations, there are still a number of independent planets and colonies that have seceded or refused to be affiliated with either one; lately, however, more and more radical fringe groups have been cropping up, mainly from developing worlds among the less economically stable sectors, as a collective whole still widely unorganised, yet nonetheless an increasingly growing concern for both the Alliance and the Federation.

 

He doesn’t particularly care for politics, given how often he’s been unintended collateral in too many political affairs, but he hears things, having grown up in that kind of atmosphere from early on discovered the significance of listening to the conversations taking place around him, learning both when and how to read between the lines.

 

The peace summits, for instance, are publically viewed as an on-going platform to help mitigate the tension between the Alliance and the Federation, and work towards more long-term solutions to better relations overall; although he’s not yet so cynical to believe that wasn’t or still isn’t one of the main goals, the summits also have the inadvertent effect of providing a channel to address those radical groups without the unwanted negative publicity, for the sake of their own self-interests.

 

On either side of the divide, there’s been plenty of cooperation in the less scrupulous sense.  To preserve their respective positions of power, it only stands to reason any threat posed to that power should be neutralised.  It’s not a pretty reality, but it’s just how some things are.  People like to forget that, for the longest time, the Alliance really wasn’t much of a step up from being a military-run dictatorship, a central governing body composed of de facto rulers who weren’t always so openly sympathetic to the plight of magic users after the Second Great War.

 

Some of the more pressing issues, believed to be the motivations behind the recent rise of insurgent groups, have stemmed from continued territory disputes, which, inevitably, have led to the uneven access and distribution of resources, having a much more noticeable impact on independent sectors, left to compete for what remains of those resources, with public outcry fearing underrepresentation due to not having an affiliation with either of the two largest governing bodies.

 

The Alliance and the Federation have a recognised monopoly on territory; however, not all sectors are occupied by the Alliance or the Federation.  A handful still aren’t inhabited, simply mapped to maintain territory lines already long established, despite the seemingly random designation of boundaries and chosen numbers.

 

His home sector, Alliance Sector 118, is relatively small, with Nagi its only planet able to support life, but it’s also in the heart of Alliance territory, surrounded on all sides by like-sectors, sectors historically known to be havens for magic users—unlike Alliance Sector 65, where Tollan and the Sakharov Research Station are, adjacent to Federation Sector 32, home to Evadne IV and what used to be Paxan, a former isolationist colony that had actively participated in the near mass genocide of magic users.

 

It’s also cause for the repeated source of strain between the Alliance and the Federation, why negotiations continue to fall through, the reason the peace summits were even proposed in the first place, because at the centre of it all the use of magic has always been a volatile issue.

 

With more and more magic users gaining influential seats within the Alliance’s central government, from the major industrialised sectors elected officials backed by the prominent families who came from old money, the families that were protected the by power of their names alone, there’s been a notable shift in activity from the magic user community within the last forty years or so.

 

The magic user community in general has been a much more visible and vocal minority in past two decades than it has in the past two centuries; the average yearly Registration has more than tripled since Sarutobi, Campio, and Vanni retired from their seats on the Council, which is an incredibly high percentage, considering it really wasn’t that long ago being born with magic was akin to being handed a death sentence.

 

And with life magic being so rare, having another life user now, he knows some do treat it as the anticipated turn of the tide affecting how magic users have long since been perceived, especially with the resurgence of magic users who don’t have the traditional backgrounds, who aren’t from the old families well established through centuries' worth of generations, people like Sakura and Sai and Shikamaru.

 

In a vastly changing political climate, purely on a speculative level, he can recognise why there’s been such a pronounced interest in his magic, and why there seems to be this apparent gravitas surrounding it.  More so than him as a person, it’s the connotations of him as a life user, what people want to believe it stands for, and the fact that life magic even still exists.

 

If he has to be honest with himself, regardless of motive, most people probably don’t consider him much more than a commodity, either as a pretext to help cement their own beliefs, or, better yet, help propel a political agenda.  The same cabinet members who like to regularly claim he’s a political liability certainly have no qualms doing an about face touting him like some hackneyed symbol of the Alliance’s bubble of prosperity, even brazen enough to claim him as irrefutable proof, using him like some kind of goddamn mascot in the name of propaganda—anything to appease the masses, anything to stay in office.

 

His own personal hang-ups aside, at worst, the Alliance has been uncompromising in its stance to ensure the rights of magic users, hence the alleged reasoning behind outdated laws like the Registration Act; it was the result of a predetermined need for an interstellar database of known magic users, as a way to guarantee legal rights, as well to more easily keep tabs on magic users who sought refugee status and eventual citizenship from the Alliance.

 

Based solely on its governing policies, the Federation doesn’t share the same concerns for magic users.  Of course, that isn’t to suppose everyone from the Federation holds the same view.  Even within the Alliance, anti-magic sentiment hasn’t really gone away, but never before had the Federation officially expressed any concerned interest toward the treatment of magic users, not until the peace summits.

 

Other bilateral summits are held throughout the year, conventional forums for food and health or foreign policy and trade issues.  This series of summits, however, in the middle of a press conference meant to address allegations of the Federation’s involvement regarding the tragedy on Tollan, entirely deflecting, the Federation had announced it’d recently reached out to the Alliance, in the development of proposing peace talks inviting specific political figures prominent in the magic user community, with the intent to help foster a more positive understanding of magic users within the Federation—as they had yet to receive a response, it was hoped making a public statement would in turn further appeal their efforts to the Alliance.

 

Undoubtedly, there was no record of any such peace talks proposed to anyone from the Alliance, but it was a gutsy move to pull, a seemingly humble display from one of the two great powers, offering the proverbial olive branch and placing the burden on the Alliance to make the magnanimous gesture of accepting the proposal.

 

On the basis of principle alone, uncompromising mired its own self-serving ideology, the Alliance couldn’t afford to refuse.

 

It wasn’t by chance his mom and dad were two of those political figures invited to attend.  Neither was it coincidence a recently defected Orochimaru was a member of the interrelations committee spearheading the proposal.  What solidified pattern was the invitation being publically extended to him, should his parents decide to allow him to go.

 

In the supposed effort to form a complementary youth summit, the invitation was extended to Naruto, too, alongside other kids whose parents ranked pretty high on the political spectrum in both the Alliance and the Federation, but, save for the eight of them who actually did attend, each of them between the ages of twelve and fourteen, the others were already adults.  That was already a given.  The overwhelming majority of their parents were career politicians, averaging well into their late fifties and mid-sixties.

 

Too blatant to even be considered a ruse, it was a cheap ploy to draw him out in the open, especially with the Federation deciding to turn over a new leaf, expressing an all too sudden newfound curiosity in the various applications of magic—and the media devoured it.

 

Compared to the Alliance’s more guarded responses, with the Federation so eager to keep the public apprised, even suggesting having the summit relocated to Nagi as a token of good faith, disproportionate media coverage had an incredibly strong influence on public opinion.

 

It also placed his parents in a precarious position. Even after that scandal surrounding the first appearance of his life magic, following his move on base, his parents had tried to minimise his exposure.  From the beginning, they’d been against the Federation’s proposal, balked at the notion the Federation even felt the need to deliberately involve children; tight-lipped when members of their family suggested using the opportunity to make the Council more amenable to certain requests that would remain unsaid, to his parents an implicit demand to do whatever was necessary to secure the family’s continued standing.

It was during that time the first time he’d ever heard of Orochimaru, having caught mentions of the name here and there through hushed conversations late at night between his parents and his brother, sometimes along with Minato and Kushina when they came over with Naruto.

 

His parents’ initial hesitation hadn’t been received well.  Even from within the Alliance, the apparent reluctance to have him further involved with such a seemingly innocuous proposal from the Federation, one ultimately for the betterment of magic users, was denounced by some as suspect, purveyed as a sign of mistrust not only attributed to his parents, but to his entire family, accusing them of attempting to start another war, whispers of possible treason, amidst accusations of deceit cries of elitism sparked from thinly veiled prejudice, so very keen to rehash Shisui’s death—if they’d been able to avoid scandal once, surely, their unwillingness to cooperate implied they had something else to hide.

 

With increased pressure from all sides, eventually, his parents were forced to relent, despite their own continued misgivings shared with Kushina and Minato, because to take a definite stance rejecting the Federation’s efforts, regardless of any possible ulterior motives, to reject the very idea the Federation had the capacity to embrace positive change on such a scale, what kind of message did that send?

 

Attending that first summit, for the most part it was uneventful.  While their parents were otherwise engaged, along with the other six kids there, he and Naruto mainly stayed gathered in a comfortably-sized conference style room that also doubled as a lounge area, not without chaperones, but just about free to roam the entire floor that had been closed off for them.

 

Surprisingly, there actually was a purpose to them being there, at least on the surface.  Since there were so few of them, it wasn’t what would typically be considered a summit, but a schedule had been arranged for them, mainly activities that promoted open discussion and focused on cultural exchange (To this day, they all still keep in touch).

 

 

Not surprisingly, Naruto didn’t have any problems getting along with the others, despite the circumstances excited to meet new people from other sectors he’d never been to before, even though they were from the Federation, because they were all just kids, caught up in their parents’ obligations, part of something they had no say in.

 

Sasuke didn’t necessarily mind being there, not as much as he minded having to share Naruto’s attention.  He mostly stayed quiet.  During breaks he used the time to work on school assignments, kept himself at a reasonable distance, turning down Naruto’s attempts to include him in conversations.  The other kids, they seemed nice enough, didn’t seem to care much about his life magic, or they’d at least been told not to mention it.

 

He still recognised the stares, though, here and there curious glances at the gloves worn on his hands roamed over this arms covered by long sleeves.  No one said anything directly to him, but even Naruto couldn’t avoid the questions, each series of _how comes_ and _what for_ harmless all on their own, sought through guileless concerns soft spoken, at Sasuke dressed so warmly during the middle of summer, wearing gloves inside a place like the hotel, nearly disappeared beneath the padding of layers seemingly too many—the kinds of clothes he was already used to wearing, made especially for him lightweight fibres woven into durable cloths, layers speciously thin barriers an offer of spare comfort to help keep everything else on the outside from coming in.

 

While Naruto fumbled trying to change the subject, before he could assume anything was wrong, Sasuke decided to leave.  He knew he was supposed to stick close to Naruto, was told over and over by his parents and his brother not to go off on his own, but he hadn’t intended on going very far, not far enough to worry Naruto into following him.

 

He stayed close enough to the room.  He only wandered a little just beyond the door, into the open hall of the ninth story stepped on to transparent flooring, walked across oversized glass panels distinguished by thin metal frames, a pathway enclosed by a frameless glass balustrade, from below along the polished trim lit by soft light, the rest of the floor laid open to a large atrium, where the lobby could be seen from over the top rails.

 

Beneath the skylight, across from the balcony, nearer still beneath the floating treads of an open glass stairwell, it was there he first met Orochimaru.

 

“…I’ve been waiting for you, Sasuke.”

 

He didn’t recognise him on sight, didn’t know who he was until after the fact, but Orochimaru already knew him, which wasn’t all that unusual in and of itself, especially around the company his parents and Itachi kept, although for a virtual stranger to approach him so casually, to address with him that kind of familiarity, it didn’t take long to realise there was something off.

 

“For so long, I’ve been watching you.  So long, I’ve been…”

 

The corner of his lips the slightest little twitch upturned, Orochimaru hadn’t even made the attempt to be discreet, staring too intently at places where he allowed his gaze to linger uncomfortably long, watching Sasuke’s gloved hand with an unveiled fascination, gaze tracing up Sasuke’s arm, from his chest, slowly, slowly trailing along his neck, eventually meeting Sasuke’s eyes.

 

“But you’re not quite like your brother, are you?  Uchiha Itachi never appeared to be so…”

 

Sasuke narrowed his eyes.  He didn’t miss the insinuation, but he wasn’t going to entertain it with a response.

 

“Yet even knowing how powerful your brother is, I came here for you, Sasuke.  Because of the magic you possess, the kind of power you’re capable of, it truly is…

 

“I’ve always wondered, with those eyes of yours,” Orochimaru said, “how differently you see this annoying world of persistent decay.  How deeply your empathy allows you to feel.”

 

There was something almost crude about his grin, just on that side of unnerving, reflected in still wandering eyes a scarcely contained delight.  “Are you usually this unresponsive, Sasuke?  Someone from a family of such stature, someone with such a…sensitive nature, can you really afford to be so unsympathetic to everyone you first meet?

 

“Should I move closer, then?” he mused, as his voice grew eager, as he moved toward Sasuke, taking another step that became one more and then two, the space there left between them only just, but Sasuke refused to step back.  “Can you feel it yet?

 

“Or would I need to actually touch you—is that how it works?  Is that what you’d prefer?  Is it simply a matter of my fingers pressing into your skin?  Holding you down, standing over you with my hands seized around your neck, watching the life slowly drain from those cold eyes of yours, is that how I make your magic respond to me?

 

“Make you feel how desperately I want to learn how you… _tick_.

 

“What lengths would I have to go, hmm, to see how long your magic will allow you to bleed?”

 

Turning on his feet, Sasuke began to follow Orochimaru’s movement, as Orochimaru began to circle a careful distance around him didn’t look away from the incisive gaze seemingly trying to pick him apart, but Orochimaru made no move to touch him.

 

“…tell me, Uchiha Sasuke, are you my key to all the secrets this world has to offer?  Are you my means to the immortality I’ve sought for so long?”

 

All but facing him, Orochimaru just stood there, continued to leer, the corners of his lips edged out into a more dissolute smile.“Do you feel it, now?  With your empathy, can you feel it inside you—after a lifetime of searching, all these years I’ve waited for you, can you understand why you’re already mine?

 

“This desire to take you apart, this very worldly desire to touch in you places you’ve never been touched before, to share with you the pressing nature of my own mortality,” he murmured, leaning closer, lips parted over Sasuke’s nape.  “My Uchiha Sasuke, do you even realise, how I…”

 

He inhaled deeply, exhaled with a soft shudder, breaths marked in hushed excitement against Sasuke’s skin.

 

“…how desperately I want to rip your body open, how much I want to tear my way inside of you, to be the one who cuts into your skin, bring you to the brink of death just to make your magic _sing._        

 

“So, will you let me have you?  Will you finally make me feel alive, when I’ve possessed every part of you, when I’ve taken your magic, when I’ve made your body mi—”

 

A hand grabbed Sasuke from behind, the fingers gripped tight around his arm wrenching him away, nearly causing him to stumble behind a fuming Naruto standing between them, blocking him from Orochimaru’s view.

 

The air depressed around him, Naruto’s magic had already begun to coil at his feet, rippled from beneath him, spreading across the floor tiny, far-reaching cracks impressed upon the glass.

 

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” Naruto snarled, his entire body trembling, his magic resonating with Kyuubi’s already closely intertwined, dangerously close to the surface becoming nearly identical to Naruto’s own.  “You don’t get to talk to Sasuke any kind of way—you don’t _ever_ get to say those kinds of things to him, and in front of me, this will be the last time you talk about Sasuke like he belongs to you.”

 

More amused than concerned, Orochimaru simply smiled, claiming he’d merely been bored, and thought it more appealing to introduce himself to Sasuke on his own terms, without any needless distractions.

 

It was a blasé response that left both Naruto and Kyuubi bristling, but while Sasuke was used to Naruto being so defensive on his behalf, there was something about Orochimaru, in particular something Orochimaru said, that had apparently been enough to provoke Kyuubi, too.  Even so, Naruto knew he couldn’t attack a dignitary from the Federation, especially a non-magic user, no matter what Orochimaru did say.

 

“You stay away from Sasuke, you hear me.”  Naruto stepped forward, hands still clenched into fists at his sides.

 

“Such an intriguing child.”  Orochimaru laughed, humouring Naruto with another smile.  “I wonder, has Sasuke ever looked at you with those cold eyes?  Does his empathy respond differently, when it’s you he sees instead of m—”

 

“You damn bastard, I’m not telling you again.”

 

For Naruto’s sake, before things could escalate any further, before Kyuubi’s raw magic threatened to peel away at Naruto’s skin, Sasuke reached to pull Naruto back, with both hands squeezing Naruto’s arm in warning, and even through his gloves, even without having bare contact, he was able to calm Kyuubi.

 

“Another time perhaps, then, Sasuke.”As Orochimaru began to walk away, moved to slip past them, he paused, stopped nearly shoulder to shoulder with a still seething Naruto.  “Oh, and…”

 

Naruto flinched, body tense at Orochimaru standing so close, but he held his ground, despite Orochimaru towering over him, determined to keep Orochimaru away from Sasuke.

 

“Won’t you join us,” Orochimaru whispered, mouth lowered above Naruto’s ear, “...Namikaze Naruto.”

 

By then, they’d drawn an audience.  It’d only been a few minutes since Sasuke left, not long at all, but when Naruto came after him, out of concern for them both, the other kids decided to call on the chaperones, but Orochimaru was already gone when they arrived; the most the chaperones could do was let their parents know what happened, although the rest of their time there, until they made it back home, Naruto wouldn’t leave his side.

 

However unsettling his encounter with Orochimaru, personally, he didn’t believe Orochimaru’s intentions stemmed from anything other than scientific interest in his life magic.  When he was asked about it, after Naruto made sure to interject and share his thoughts regarding what he’d heard of the conversation, Sasuke couldn’t say he’d felt particularly intimidated by Orochimaru.

 

That was why he hadn’t felt the need to draw away.  That was why he hadn’t gone back to the room like he probably should’ve, as his parents reminded him, back to Naruto, who he shouldn’t have left in the first place.

 

As a non-magic user, without that innate sense from having empathy, Orochimaru didn’t have the ability to hide his emotions as well, not that he’d even tried to, and although Sasuke did find the situation overall uncomfortable, aside from Orochimaru’s almost fanatical desire to dissect his body, he didn’t quite grasp how blatantly inappropriate Orochimaru had been.

 

Now, he can recognise the overtones and understands why everyone else read the situation differently, but then…

 

He remembers his dad and Minato being upset, but his mom and Kushina had been furious, echoing Naruto’s anger, calling Orochimaru’s actions into question, openly denouncing them as vulgar and reprehensible, because while Orochimaru had previously expressed an interest in studying life magic for the sake of furthering his research, even among officials from the Federation, it seemed no one had actually expected he’d have the audacity to seek out Sasuke on his own, much less approach a thirteen year old minor alone, especially considering it was only day one during a tentative first in the proposed series of peace summits.

 

It wasn’t the tipping point, but of course, even at that time Orochimaru had already reached a nearly unassailable position of power.  As someone who rose prominently within the Federation, and so quickly, with the sheer amount of pull he had, whatever he’d done to achieve that, it wasn’t too far off from having near complete diplomatic immunity.

 

That disaster on Tollan four years ago, the one that killed Tenten’s parents, though Orochimaru was one of the names that frequently came up, beyond continued speculation, even with as much circumstantial evidence as the case potentially had, with very few witnesses willing to either authenticate or openly testify against him, there wasn’t any way to actually prove Orochimaru had direct ties to the incident.

 

The unspoken consensus was Orochimaru had orchestrated the events leading to a viral epidemic that nearly decimated an entire colony, from behind the scenes involved in the poorly controlled experimentation on a knowingly unstable pathogen; he’d already been accused of misconduct multiple times before, for allegedly running unethical clinical trials, without informed consent preying upon people who readily presented as more vulnerable targets, abusing them as test subjects, often with fatal consequences.

 

During the aftermath, still in the middle of search and rescue, and clean-up efforts, before an investigation even began to take place, Orochimaru had defected to the Federation, who’d been more than willing to grant him diplomatic asylum, refuting all requests to have him extradited, on the grounds that the Alliance had arbitrarily denied Orochimaru substantive due process, by purposely singling him out as solely responsible for a crime that could not be proven he committed.

 

In their words, Orochimaru had become a victim of unjust persecution.

 

In other words, it was bullshit.

 

Still, even if Orochimaru was extradited, there had already been doubts the Alliance wasn’t really going to go through with trying to prosecute him.  The Council had been turning a blind eye to Orochimaru’s transgressions for years, letting him slip on numerous technicalities long before even Minato held office.  As long as Orochimaru was producing results, as long as there was some sort of benefit to come of use, it was out of sight, out of mind, that easy for the Council to absolve itself of any responsibility for feeding into Orochimaru’s apparent god complex.

 

On the surface, Orochimaru has been a decisive figure in the medical field.  Some of the more recent technology that’s become standard, he was heavily involved in the making of a few of those patents, so he’s clearly made substantial contributions to modern medicine.  That much can’t be argued.

 

Unfortunately, since he’s willing to pursue extreme methods for the sake of advancing his research, knowing the extent of what he can get away with, constantly pushing those boundaries, he’s reckless in his own arrogance, far less concerned about any repercussions or casualties than his self-proclaimed, lifelong ambition of discovering the cure for mortality.

 

Compared to Orochimaru’s other exploits, however, as disconcerting as it is to be an obsession for someone with seemingly no moral compass, aside from trying to speak to him during the summits, or making the occasional attempt at contact that doesn’t even reach him, anyway, Orochimaru hasn’t actually tried to physically harm him, which does seem a little inconsistent, but, since that first summit, he’s kept a relatively low profile.

 

More to the point, since the appearance of his life magic, that encounter with Orochimaru was also one of his first experiences outside the small predetermined circle his parents had created for him. 

 

Always being around the same people, it was harder for him to fully comprehend the kinds of dangers everyone warned him about.  He’d been given the talk plenty of times, told how important it was to be discreet about his magic, using it only in extenuating circumstances, if even that, but it never seemed to click.  After meeting Orochimaru, it finally began to sink in, that once very implausible thought that anyone would ever be interested in something like his magic, given all the trouble it’d caused him.

 

If his family name weren’t Uchiha, if his parents didn’t have connections, didn’t have such a strong relationship with Naruto’s mom and dad, he knows he would’ve been much more vulnerable to people like Orochimaru.

 

He’s wondered about it, though, if Orochimaru hadn’t defected from the Alliance, if Orochimaru had the reputation of someone more along the lines of Iyashi, was someone his parents actually felt they could trust, how different his life would’ve been.

 

But with things as they are now, before Barrah, before the self-doubt he thought he’d finally buried started getting to him again, it’s been comfortable.  Following the decision to move him on base, at the very least, his parents and his brother have tried to provide him with some kind of structure, as much as they’ve been able, to give him some semblance of independence.

 

He’s even started taking a few classes at the high school.  It’s not as many as he’d like, but just being enrolled, being able to go to an actual campus instead of having to stay isolated at home, it’s such a normal thing, and yet it’s the closest he’s had to normalcy in years.

 

On the other hand, that’s probably because the school’s still located on base; it serves as a parallel institution to the Academy, with the basic curriculum not much different, because some of the higher level courses offered do overlap with the classes trainees have to take as requirements to pass, depending on which track they plan on applying for after graduating.

 

Although his parents still live near the Capital, he lives with Itachi, in a moderately-sized housing complex, recently renovated from the old barracks into more modern apartment-style units, within walking distance of the library and one of the many convenience stores scattered across base.

 

It’s not the most spacious, or traditionally ornate like his parents’ house, with pretty limited amenities compared to where he grew up living near the Capital, but with the life he’s built around it, the routine mundaneness of it all, it’s become _home_.

 

Itachi’s usually busy during the day, so when he’s not in school Sasuke takes care of most of the chores.  Keeping the house neat, doing laundry, airing out the futons, shopping for groceries, cooking, doing those sorts of things, he really doesn’t mind it so much.

 

Some days, Itachi doesn’t always make it in time for dinner, returning after Sasuke’s already fallen asleep.  Other days, he doesn’t return home at all because of work that takes him off base, sometimes off world, but on those days Itachi gets to sit across from him at their small little table, when Itachi asks to hear about his day—when Itachi smiles at the food prepared for him, silently acknowledging the simplest thing all Sasuke can do trying to take care of him, it’s…nice.

 

Being able to share a meal, just being able to spend time together, like they used to when he was younger, those weekend afternoons Itachi would take him to the park, where they’d share a packed lunch in one of their family’s private gardens near the Capital; or when Itachi first began to teach him shadow magic, and he’d stare in awe as his brother would gradually make the things he’d touch disappear, would himself gradually turn unseen before Sasuke’s very eyes, but then he’d instinctively reach out for Itachi’s hand, relax into the comforting sensation of being enveloped by Itachi’s cold, squeezing tightly his fingers held between Itachi’s own, because his brother’s magic always made him feel safe.

 

In between school and chores, he still gets to see Naruto pretty often, usually on weekends, when Naruto’s not at the Academy, or, more recently, sent on the occasional training mission or TDA.  Even though Naruto lives in the dorms now, he makes a regular habit of visiting when he can, tries to surprise him with visits that always lack the element of surprise because Sasuke can always sense whenever Naruto’s close by.

 

But sometimes he likes to indulge Naruto, pretend not to notice the familiar warmth from Naruto standing behind him, trying not to smile at the hands covering his eyes, the breath from Naruto’s soft laughter tickling his ear.

 

_“I don’t know why you still even bother.  It’s never going to happen.”_

_“One of these days, I swear I actually am going to surprise you, you know.”_

_“No, you’re going to end up spending the rest of your life trying.”_

_“…well, I guess that’s why, then.”_

 

Admittedly, he doesn’t have much of a social life, but from time to time he gets to travel off base, having dragged Naruto all the way to Jeil more than a few times, although it still isn’t too far away, just a little bit beyond Ise.  Naruto likes to think of it as sneaking out, likes to tease him about going behind Itachi’s back, but as long as he’s with Naruto, it isn’t really considered sneaking out anywhere. 

 

As long as he’s with Naruto, as long as it doesn’t affect his school obligations or put him in immediate harm, his parents and his brother are much more lenient about what he does or doesn’t do, much more willing to overlook those weekend nights he doesn’t come home until long after curfew, chalking it up to the typically expected, teenage rebellious phase, because Naruto’s the one they trust, such a good role model.

 

In their eyes, apparently, Naruto can do no wrong.

 

Sasuke snorts, as a rumble from below signals the engines trying to come to life, swiping his finger across the touch panel and switching the viewscreen display over to the start-up sequence modules.

 

It only lasts a few seconds.  Like every time before, the engines stall, begin to whir again between a quick series of sputtering coughs and low-pitched warbles that fizzle out with a measly hum.

 

The ship falls into silence, a too bleak sort of quiet, with almost no trace of sound, not even from Naruto, and Sasuke sighs, switching the viewscreen display back to the repair modules.

 

His parents’ and his brother’s near absolute faith in Naruto, he knows it’s more than a little unfair to hold any kind of grudge towards Naruto for something that Naruto can’t even help.  With everything Naruto’s done for him, the person Naruto’s become for him, all the times he’s simply been there, Naruto certainly doesn’t deserve that, and yet it seems the older Sasuke gets, the more it feels like his family has entrusted him in Naruto’s care, passing the responsibility, so to speak, as if the idea of him ever being able to have any kind of stability on his own is just that—an idea.

 

The only reason his parents have even allowed him this much freedom, is because they expect him not to deliberately reveal his magic around other people.  Allowing him to live with Itachi on base, allowing him to go to school, it’s all contingent upon the agreed understanding he wouldn’t misuse his magic, healing or elemental, but his shadow magic above all.

 

Honestly, if he truly wanted to disappear, he probably could.  Not that he has anywhere in particular to go, but even Naruto, with his exceedingly high sensory abilities, even Naruto wouldn’t be able to find him if he didn’t want to be found.

 

Among shadow users, to use that specific cloaking technique is to essentially vanish from the visible plane of existence, and yet somehow, he’s never been able to hide from Itachi.  No matter how many times he’s tried, his brother has always been able to find him.  Maybe because they’re related.  Maybe because he isn’t a true shadow elemental.  Maybe because Itachi really is that powerful.

 

The closest he’s actually come to disappearing was more of a mishap and didn’t have anything to do with his shadow magic.  Rather, it was his Influence, that day he ended up on Kakashi’s ship.

 

It really was a kind of spur-of-the-moment decision to stowaway on the _Lazulum_.  No one had noticed him so close to the loading docks.  No one tried to stop him as he walked through, so he simply took it for the opportunity it was, snuck into one of the smaller cargo holds, a former triage centre that was already emptied, no longer being used, but through its viewport allowed him to see outside.

 

He still can’t say what convinced him to go through with it, but sometimes it really is that much less of a hassle not to go against any kind of instinctual pull, and maybe just once, even if it’d be the only time, he’d wanted to experience for himself what it’d be like out there, that world he’d always wanted to be part of, by the same magic holding him back drawn even closer to the stars that had never before seemed so far out of his reach.

 

He just wasn’t expecting to run into Naruto along the way.

 

Looking back, the possibility of running into Naruto was something he probably should’ve considered.  Part of the fleet nicknamed the ‘Crop Hold,’ the _Lazulum_ was only one of many utilitarian ships, often referred to as bricks, mainly used to transport trainees and active duty graduates to and from specialised training missions or temporary duty assignments.

 

So, of course, the _Lazulum_ just happened to have a scheduled stop in Syrdia, where Naruto just happened to have been sent for a week-long training mission.

 

Before he was even cleared for boarding, Naruto had picked up Sasuke’s magical signature on the ship.  He’d known exactly where Sasuke was.

 

It was only a matter of time, so Sasuke simply waited, immersed in his view of the stars, sensing Naruto closer and closer on the warpath heading straight for him.

 

Compared to what he’d been expecting, though, Naruto’s entrance was surprisingly subtle.

 

“ _What the hell are you doing here?_ ” Naruto hissed, worry laced in his voice frantic a not so quiet whisper, as he grabbed Sasuke by the shoulders, looking him over to make sure he was okay.  “How’d you even manage to—”

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“Why am I—”Naruto blinked, hands falling away from Sasuke, head slowly cocked to the side, just plain struck dumb, giving Sasuke the absolutely most incredulous stare.“No, Sasuke— _no_ , you don’t get to ask questions in a situation like this.  The guy who snuck past _the_ Hatake Kakashi and snuck on board a security level three ship does not get to ask _me_ why I’m here.”

 

“I didn’t—”

 

Naruto held up a finger, not giving Sasuke a chance to finish.  “Nope.”  He shook his head, with an accusatory glare pointing his finger too close to Sasuke’s face, nearly poking Sasuke in the eye.  “I always say your brother’s going to kill me, but he really is this time.  And really hard, too.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke pushed aside Naruto’s hand.  “Stop freaking out over nothing.  You can’t be blamed for something you didn’t do.  It’s not like you forced me to come here.”

 

“…you really, really don’t get how this whole chain of command thing works, do you?”

 

“Besides, no one even noticed me.”

 

“What’d you mean no one noticed you?  Didn’t you use your shadow magic to sneak in here?”

 

“You know I’m not supposed to use my shadow magic.  That’s why you can still see me.”

 

“Then, how come nobody else…”

 

“Because I didn’t have to.”

 

He told Naruto it was his Influence.  That was all it could be, because he really hadn’t been using any shadow magic at the time.  The subconscious pull that drew him to the ship, exactly why it did he wasn’t sure, but the fact he was eventually brought to Naruto…

 

“You sure no one else knows you’re here?”

 

“Yeah.  Just you.”

 

After telling him he’d be back, Naruto left to explain the situation to Kakashi, because he said it was the right thing to do, and he needed someone on his side if Itachi was going to have his head on a plate, since Sasuke didn’t seem to care about his general wellbeing.

 

Initially, Kakashi had been hesitant to believe Naruto, duly under the impression the ship’s state of the art sensors would’ve detected Sasuke’s presence, life magic or not—until Naruto was able to somehow convince him that wasn’t the case, leading him to Cargo Bay Four.

 

However, when Kakashi and Naruto arrived, Kakashi still didn’t see Sasuke.  He looked right through him.  “Due to the potential seriousness of the situation, as much I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt, Naruto…” 

 

“You’re not listening.  That’s why it’s not getting through to you because it’s not me.  It’s Sasuke’s Influence.  Something’s not—”

 

“I’m well aware of Uchiha Sasuke’s Influence, Cadet.  And the effect it doesn’t have on you.  But if this is supposed to be some kind of prank, I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than—”

 

“I already told you.  It’s not a prank.  I’m not—”   Naruto groaned in frustration.  “You have to show him, Sasuke.  You have to let him know you’re here.”

 

As Naruto approached him, Sasuke pursed his lips, glancing toward a bemused Kakashi.

 

“If it’s not the other thing,” Naruto said, standing right in front of him, “then make Kakashi see you.”

 

“You know it’s not something I can turn on and off.  I can’t just—”

 

“Don’t tell me you can’t, Sasuke, not when you haven’t even tried.  Not until you—”

 

“How can I try to control my Influence, when I don’t even know what sets it off?  I can’t make Kakashi—”

 

“Make him see you, Sasuke.”

 

Kakashi watched Naruto cautiously, as if Naruto were suffering from some sort of nervous breakdown, not necessarily uncommon in his field of work, although for him, it probably did seem like Naruto was trying to prove the existence of someone who clearly wasn’t there.

 

 “…I understand you have an attachment to Sasuke, and that being away from someone close to you for long periods of time can take its toll, but this isn’t—”

 

“I wouldn’t joke around with something like this, not when it comes to Sasuke,” Naruto said, voice whispered low, growing firm.  “You might not be able to see him right now, but that doesn’t matter because I already know he’s there.  And I’d never give up on Sasuke.  I’d never abandon him.”

 

Caught still beneath Naruto’s gaze, beneath the depth of blue eyes watching him, Sasuke couldn’t bring himself to look away.

 

“That’s why you have to make Kakashi see you, Sasuke.  Because you can’t let your magic take you away.”

 

The declaration had given Kakashi momentary pause, causing him to reconsider whatever he was going to say, visible eye once narrowed at Naruto turned to follow Naruto’s gaze, where Sasuke still stood unseen.  “…all right.  I’ll bite.  If it’s really as you say, Naruto, I guess that explains why I’m still having such a hard time wanting to believe you.

 

“So, the question is now, do either of you have any idea how to reverse this?”

 

Ultimately, Sasuke hadn’t been able to turn off his Influence.  Instead, in order to make Kakashi see him, he thought of trying to correct Kakashi’s false perception of sight, since his Influence had almost completely dissuaded Kakashi from believing he was there, as if it’d planted an idea in Kakashi’s mind, the near opposite of a hallucination.

 

Before Naruto realised what he was doing, before he could intervene to stop him, Sasuke was already facing Kakashi, fingers pressed against Kakashi’s temples, white clouding his vision, eyes gone wide, searching for whatever he’d inadvertently done that was blocking Kakashi’s ability to see him.

 

Naturally, the attempt didn’t go quite as planned.  It backfired spectacularly.  As comfortable as he was using his life magic, in truth, he’d only used it on a handful of people—people who were already used to his magic, people his magic had already become familiar with, a group that did not include Kakashi, so maybe it shouldn’t have been such a surprise how quickly his magic went rampant, immediately seeking out any and every hole and tear within Kakashi’s life force.

 

His hyperawareness of the vertical scar over Kakashi’s left eye, that should’ve been enough forewarning, really.

 

The connection hadn’t lasted long, though, maybe a few seconds before Kakashi made a reflexive grab for Sasuke’s arms, pulling Sasuke’s hands away from his face.

 

“…Uchiha Sasuke.”  He blinked, fairly lucid, yet still a little bewildered by Sasuke’s seemingly sudden appearance before him, the visible part of his face somewhat flustered in embarrassment.

 

Despite his modest and laid-back demeanour, Kakashi was well regarded as a powerful magic user, even ranked as an A-class.  Like Itachi, he’d been deemed a prodigy at a young age, with both a high sensory ability and a high level of empathy, yet even he was taken aback by how heavily he’d fallen under Sasuke’s Influence.

 

“Aren’t you a long way from home.”

 

Pointedly ignoring Naruto’s glare trying to burn a hole into him, Sasuke decided to remain quiet, still a little disoriented, while Kakashi continued to stare, regarding him with a scrutinising interest.

 

Kakashi had always been wary of him, a little more aloof than most people would normally consider him to be.  It wasn’t exactly dislike, because he didn’t seem to mind him personally, even letting Sasuke observe the individual training sessions he used to give Naruto, occasionally entertaining Sasuke’s questions about his lightning techniques, but mainly he preferred to keep his distance.

 

“Although I will say, when I suggested it’d be better for you not to stick out,” Kakashi said, face relaxed into his usual, heavy-lidded expression, “I didn’t mean for you take it as permission to get lost aboard my ship.”

 

An increasingly frazzled Naruto pushed his way in between them, nearly tripping over himself in the few steps it took to reach Sasuke.  “I said make Kakashi see you,” he hissed, despite his touch overly gentle, hands careful framing Sasuke’s face while giving him another quick onceover.  “Not try to dope him up with your magic.”

 

“You kept saying, make Kakashi see me,” Sasuke hissed back, focusing on Naruto’s voice while waiting for the edges of his vision to clear, leaning further into the familiarity of Naruto’s touch that helped ground him.  “I used my magic to make him see me.  What else were you expecting me to do?”

 

“Obviously not what you just did, Sasuke— _obviously._ ”  Satisfied Sasuke hadn’t seriously hurt himself, any pretence of gentleness gone, Naruto began to pull at Sasuke’s cheeks, pinching and squeezing, half-heartedly venting his frustration by trying to squish Sasuke’s face.  “Didn’t we just have a conversation about this?  I know we had a conversation about this before I left.”

 

“You’re the one who didn’t want to believe me.  It’s like I said.  I _can’t_ control it.  Don’t expect me to suddenly just—”

 

“Where do I even start with you?  Is this the kind of thing you get up to when I’m not around?  Are you purposely trying to get me kil—”

 

“Ah, the way you two bicker, why you felt the need to unnecessarily put me through this…”  Kakashi gave a longsuffering sigh, finger lightly scratching his cheek, over the black neoprene mask stretched across half his face.  “I’m the one who’ll have to turn in a report.”

 

Naruto turned his head slowly, turning on Kakashi an impressive glower.  “Don’t give me that careless act.  I’m the one who’ll have to face Itachi.”

 

“Which is true,” Kakashi said.  “Therefore, as commander of this ship, I feel it’d be more prudent if I gave my favourite cadet the very important responsibility of informing him in my place, since the admiral seems to have a soft spot for you.”

 

“What soft spot?” Naruto muttered darkly, suddenly in the backdrop surrounding him a heavy aura of impending doom.

 

“The face of this guy—you see this guy right here,” he said, giving two more squeezes pulling at Sasuke’s cheeks, “anything this guy does, anything happens to him, I could be halfway across another galaxy, one foot in the grave even, and Uchiha Itachi would _still_ find a way to pin the blame on me.”

 

“It comes from a place of brotherly concern, surely.”

 

“…do you enjoy trying to hasten my imminent demise?”

 

For what it was worth, Naruto was being overdramatic.  Sasuke was the one who bore the brunt of Itachi’s disappointment, his brother’s reproach for being selfish and needlessly worrying their parents, because if it weren’t for Naruto, too easily Sasuke could’ve ended up in a situation beyond his control.  If it weren’t for Naruto, there stood the chance no one else would’ve realised where he was.

 

He hadn’t even been gone a day, but it took another three to make it back home.  The _Lazulum_ had other predetermined stops to make, and for three days, only Naruto and Kakashi had known about his presence on the ship.  On the third day, his Influence still hadn’t worn off the rest of the crew and the other passengers on board.

 

When they returned to base, Naruto followed alongside the other trainees off the ship, headed for the check-in kiosks at the main arrival gate, while Sasuke was escorted to Kakashi’s office near the departure gate, led through a remote entryway that required no less than a level eight clearance code to access.

 

Even though he was a mid-grade officer, somehow, Kakashi had a level twelve clearance code.

 

Sasuke didn’t even know the clearance levels went that high.

 

On the walk to Kakashi’s office, they only passed two guards.  The guards didn’t acknowledge him, hadn’t even spared a glance at him.  Whether it was because of his Influence or because he was with Kakashi, he wasn’t sure, but, on record, his presence aboard the _Lazulum_ was to be omitted from the public files.  Although Kakashi openly lamented over the fact he’d have to draw up more paperwork, the unofficial report was going to remain sealed indefinitely.

 

As Kakashi began working on the report, Sasuke tried to keep himself occupied in Kakashi’s small office space, stuck in Kakashi’s custody until he could be released to his parents when they came to pick him up.

 

Waiting was mostly a quiet affair.  In the background of clacking noises and papers being shuffled, he observed the sparsely decorated room and the placement of seemingly random objects: near the nameplate on his desk was a miniature fighter ship, smaller than the models Naruto like to collect, in tiny letters reading the words _White Fang_ across the side; on a tall, narrow bookshelf, among a handful books laid out across four shelves, only two of them, the colourful graphic novels, looked like they’d ever been read; next to the door hanging on the wall was a strange white mask, circled with three black lines, creating a kind of optical illusion, with three different coloured tomoe in the centre arranged into a lined circle, surrounding a single black dot in the middle.

 

He hadn’t been waiting long, though, before his parents arrived.  They were already on base, had already made arrangements the moment they received the call from Itachi.

 

Kakashi stood up to greet them, welcoming them inside, casually waving off their formal gratitude for taking care of Sasuke.  He offered them the other two chairs, worn but comfortable, offered them to make use of his office, to take as much time as they’d like, before letting himself out and closing the door behind him.

 

When Sasuke followed that subconscious pull taking him to the _Lazulum_ , it wasn’t necessarily that it hadn’t occurred to him, eventually, his parents, or anyone for that matter, would notice he was gone.  He just hadn’t expected it to turn into such an ordeal, because in the end nothing did happen.

 

During his video call with Itachi, while he’d still been on the _Lazulum_ , Itachi told him their parents thought the worst had happened, those first few hours he was missing that they’d been on the verge of dropping everything, until Itachi assured them he was okay, because Naruto and Kakashi were there with him, but Sasuke didn’t think…

 

He stood still across from them, bent forward, hands lowered down the front of his legs, over his knees, hair fallen over his eyes obscuring his gaze directed toward the ground.

 

They weren’t the most demonstrative family, although his family as a whole, well-known for having above average levels of empathy, also had a tendency to fall on the more intense side of their emotions, which was why it caught him by surprise when he saw his mom’s feet, raising his head as she gathered him in a careful embrace, all at once enveloped him in her palpable relief, in a comfortable warmth an aching familiarity he hadn’t realised how much he actually missed.

 

Letting him go, she pushed his hair back, placed her hand over his forehead, like she used to when he was younger, before she had to reach a little higher, because he’d grown tall enough to stand with her eye to eye.

 

“Mom, I…”

 

She gave him a smile, a gentle look of understanding that reminded him so much of Itachi, even when her features settled into something a lot more disapproving, because it was the same exact expression Itachi had given him during that video call.

 

And then she gave him an ultimatum: If he couldn’t behave accordingly, if he didn’t feel he was mature enough to handle the responsibility of living on his own with Itachi, she would be more than happy to move him back to the Capital, to live with them again.

 

“The decisions you make, Sasuke, they don’t affect just you.  They affect more people than you realise, so you have that responsibility not just to us as your parents, but to your brother, to the rest of our family, to Naruto, to Kushina and Minato—to all the people who care about you, who only try their best to protect you.”

 

Addressing his dad, however…

 

Even without his empathy, it was hard to miss how awkward his dad was around him, if only because his dad didn’t always know how to approach him in situations where his empathy or Influence was involved, and maybe even that was because of how adverse a reaction Sasuke would have to him during his initial empathetic attacks, when he could only bear to have either Itachi or Naruto around him.

 

But it was with his dad he first began to study fire magic, from his dad he was taught their family’s techniques, the one who stood between him and the members of their family who had before tried to exploit his life magic, defied even his own family obligations to ensure no one else knew about his elemental magic.

 

His dad who began to take quick strides toward him, in between one step and the next before Sasuke could blink pulled him into his arms, breathed in, breathed out, just held on to him for a little while.

 

Almost reluctant to let go, his dad pulled away.  He stood back, regained his composure, clearing his throat and absently straightening his tie.  “We should’ve listened to your brother.”

 

Sasuke eyed his dad warily.  The last time Itachi had tried to convince their parents to do something, it was to calmly suggest that it would be in the best interest of his reckless little brother to have a tracking chip implanted in him.

 

Whether Itachi had truly been pushing their parents to consider it, or simply trying to scare him into compliance, he didn’t think he could afford to put it past someone like his brother.

 

“…listened to Itachi about what?”

 

“Having you wear an ankle monitor.”

 

Needless to say, his parents allowed him to continue living with Itachi, thankfully without any kind of embarrassing monitoring device (that he’s aware of), although his attempt to explain what happened with his Influence wasn’t anywhere near close enough to prevent him from being placed under a month-long house arrest that’s still on-going.

 

If it weren’t for this scheduled trip to the summit, he would’ve been stuck at home, probably holed up in his room trying to avoid Sai, who, unlike Neji, is a shadow user and much more difficult to lose, and that much more annoying, purposely pretending to be obtuse because he enjoys being the antagonistic, occasional live-in minder Sasuke never wanted.

 

He’s also much more straightforward, to the point of being completely tactless about certain things, but where Neji’s often tight-lipped about information concerning what he believes Sasuke doesn’t need to know, Sai’s more than willing to share information he hears, about anything he finds interesting happening both on and off base.

 

Ultimately, though, whatever Sai does tell him is decidedly on a need-to-know basis, because Sai’s loyalties don’t lie with him.  They lie with Itachi, and if Itachi decides there’s something he doesn’t need to know, Sasuke won’t.

 

But with the kind of military career Itachi has behind him, barely on the edge of his twenties, already an influential force in the Alliance, an emerging leader to the eyes of so many people who admire him, it’s a loyalty inspired, not a loyalty undeserved.

 

He already knows he’s not like his brother.  He knows he’s not…

 

Although Itachi’s in a unique position in his life now, he was a pilot first, the reason Sasuke even wanted to fly.  Yet at the height of his career, a couple years after Sasuke’s life magic was discovered, Itachi decided to take a backseat, leave the duty tours behind him, told their parents he wanted to take Sasuke in because the least he could do was try to give his little brother a more normal life.

 

If it weren’t for Itachi, his parents would have never agreed to him living on base.  He knows that.  The kinds of concessions Itachi’s had to take, more than anyone, he knows—he understands the consequences of the sacrifice his brother willingly made for him.

 

He can never repay Itachi for that.  He can never be appreciative enough.  Too many times when he feels lost looking into his brother’s eyes, all he can do is try not to think about it, whenever Itachi tries to reassure him, pokes his forehead with a tired smile, try not to let it show on his face, how much of the burden he never wanted to become.

 

Itachi already worries too much about him.  He doesn’t think he’s so easy to read, but without him having to say anything, there are some things Itachi just seems to know.

 

It wouldn’t surprise him if Itachi’s already started to suspect more happened when he healed Naruto, especially after learning about the backlash he received releasing Juugo from that collar.

 

Itachi didn’t ask him, but whatever it is about being on Barrah, it’s more than apparent when he’s the only one whose magic has been affected, although it’s his empathy Itachi’s more concerned about.

 

Day four since they’ve been here, and Itachi’s already put him through his old assessment questions twice.

 

The assessment itself isn’t bad on its own.  It’s a product from his second year of therapy sessions with Iyashi, dailies, a way to help him practice mindfulness, another type of mental acuity exercise to help him work through his emotions, instead of ignoring them until they inevitably blew up in his face.

 

With the addition of his life magic, without any precedent to fall back on, Iyashi had to establish a different baseline for him, still somewhat borrowing from the Suzuki method, but taking into account how his life magic responded to his empathy, and from that building a personalised scale Sasuke could refer to, ranged from one through seven, to help him better gauge his empathy.

 

The more affected he is by his empathy, the more susceptible he becomes to his life magic.

 

Unfortunately, it works the other way around, too.

 

Like what happened after waking up from the crash.  Trying to keep Naruto alive, he’d exhausted himself using too much of his life magic, but he hadn’t been able to process anything beyond the reality of Naruto dying, and it was always easier to let his magic take over, always easier when everything felt like too much, yet that’s the default state of his empathy, why it took so long for him to learn how to be normal again, because he always, _always_ feels too much.

 

And it just becomes this continuous cycle.

 

For him, that’s what sensitive really means.  As much as he doesn’t like the word, by itself it’s just another term to measure empathy, but when someone makes a remark about him feeling sensitive, it’s a less direct way of asking if he’s feeling emotionally overwhelmed, whether by his own emotions or not—except too many people like to equate sensitive with delicate, and tend to assume that being naturally more sensitive to emotions makes him inherently weak.

 

Those assessment questions he used to dread being asked at the end of every day, Itachi wouldn’t put him through dailies for no reason at all, because there’s a purpose they serve, but the way some of the questions are worded, the almost overstated simple nature of it, it just makes him feel like some kid who’d forever need someone there to hold his hand.

 

_“Are you worried?”_

_“I don’t know.  Why would I be worried?”_

_“It’s okay to be worried.”_

_“I’m not worried.  I’m fine.”_

 

_“Where are you right now?”_

_“Nii-san, I don’t need—”_

_“Where are you, Sasuke?”_

_“…a four.  But Naruto’s here.  It doesn’t matter if it’s just—”_

 

Naruto had attempted to give him some illusion of privacy, busying himself going over the remote readings from the ship through his PCD, but Naruto’s given him dailies before, already knows what to ask, what kinds of responses to give, step by step how to help walk him through his emotions.

 

The only difference now is, it’s not something he’s had to do in a while.

 

Despite it only being in front of Itachi and Naruto, he still couldn’t help but feel a little humiliated he’d reverted back to needing dailies at all.  And while he knows his brother wasn’t trying to belittle or degrade him, what was the point of even making him go through that, if he was just going to go over his head in search for whatever answers he wanted from Naruto, anyway.

 

His life magic, his empathy, the petal-shaped impression he’d found on the wall, an impression he later said strangely reminded him of a lotus flower, that’s what the two of them spoke about last night, what he remembers from their conversation, snippets he’d heard through a hazy consciousness, slipped in and out of a sleep that wouldn’t fully come.

 

_“—racelet we found, I really don’t know, Itachi.  I get what Juugo’s saying, but I don’t want to think—hold on for a sec?_

_“…hey, what’re you doing that for?  I thought you were sleeping.”_

_“It’s still bothering you.”_

_“…am I keeping you up?”_

_“No, that doesn’t have anything to do with you.  I just don’t like it when you’re…”_

_“Oh.  You mean about those bodies that got dumped in the lab.  Yeah.  Yeah, I guess I just never thought…”_

 

Vaguely, he remembers with his magic reaching out to Naruto.  After discovering the lab yesterday, Naruto had been even quieter on the way back, internalising a different kind of hurt, suppressing a rage that didn’t begin to let up until they made into the cave.

 

Naruto’s not as sensitive as he is.  In terms of magic, his empathy doesn’t affect him nearly to the same extent, but he’s always been a compassionate guy, despite sometimes being a little too straightforward, genuinely kind, with a seemingly limitless capacity for empathy in the ordinary sense, even if he doesn’t always understand or agree with every person he meets.

 

The bodies they found, all that was left of them piles of cloth and bones, Naruto’s been trying to brush it off, trying not to let it get to him, because there’s nothing they can do about it now, but Sasuke knows it’s something Naruto’s going to hold on to, at the very least until he can find out who’s responsible and make them answer for what they did.

 

Already so far in that stage of decomposition, presumably years, without the right equipment, there was no way of telling how long the bodies had been there, or the cause of death.  For now, the photos they took will have to be enough, until they can revisit Barrah better prepared, with any luck find out what really happened to Juugo’s people.

 

He could only hope the bodies were put there in the aftermath, and not the result of anyone being trapped inside left to die.

 

It’s still a lot to take in.  Since coming here, Juugo’s ability to read magical auras, Juugo being the lone survivor of a people who used to be magic users, those murals on the cave walls, the way his magic’s been behaving lately, Kyuubi’s growing presence, even Juugo’s mere mention of Orochimaru, it’s all connected.  It has to be. 

 

There’s something very off about Barrah, almost primal, something old enough to make even Kyuubi’s presence feel young.  That’s been the common denominator.

 

…just not the only one.

 

He doesn’t want to think it’s him.  He doesn’t want to believe this seemingly random stream of events has anything to do with what he is, that the universe is somehow chasing him towards something for reasons he can’t even begin to fathom, but that’s where everything seems to point.

 

It hasn’t even been a month since he snuck on board the _Lazulum_.  Not so long ago that he can so easily dismiss the possibility that there may just be some correlation between his sensitivity now and the extensive effect of his Influence then.

 

Any new developments in his empathy, especially in regards to how it relates to his life magic and his Influence, he doesn’t hesitate to call on Iyashi.

 

Iyashi’s known him for years.  He’s been one of his primary caregivers from the start, by this point completely unaffected by his Influence, although Iyashi normally wears a deadpan expression that makes him appear unmoved by most things.

 

He’s also one of the few who know about his elemental magic, nearly everything about his magic, save for his connection to Kyuubi.

 

The last time he’d spoken to Iyashi about his Influence, though, a couple days after returning from Syrdia, during that weekend he spent with his parents, even Iyashi was a little unsettled by what he’d done, enough to allow for the surprise shown on his face.

 

_“Though, I do encourage you not to shy away from your instincts, your Influence, however, is something you should be more conscious of.”_

_“It’s not as if I meant to do it, or it’s even something I thought of beforehand.  It’s the same every time.  It just happened.”_

_“And in turn you followed a subconscious pull.  You didn’t feel you were putting yourself in a dangerous situation?”_

_“No, because I trust my magic.  I knew everything would be fine.”_

_“Maybe.  But if it weren’t for Naruto, how long do you think it would’ve taken for someone to find you?”_

 

It doesn’t help that his Influence overall has gotten progressively worse.  Not on the same scale as that particular instance affecting so many people at once, but more along the lines of how it’s typically worked in the past, although more recently inducing an increasingly heightened state of euphoria.

 

Within a week of his scheduled appointment with Iyashi, only days apart, there were two separate incidents, relatively harmless after the fact, but nonetheless disconcerting at the time.

 

The first one, he’d been on his way to the commissary, a quick trip to pick up some things that were out of stock at the convenience store nearby.  He noticed someone going in the same direction, trailing not too far from him, an older woman he’d seen before once or twice in passing—Odine, she’d later introduce herself—another magic user, a water elemental, one of the recently announced graduates from the chemical division and only a few years ahead of Naruto’s class.

 

Initially, he didn’t know what to make of it.  There was nothing he could sense from her to make him think anything was wrong, except she’d followed him all the way to the commissary, eventually trailing closer and closer, stopping only when he stopped, gradually closing the distance between them in the middle of a nearly emptied lot.

 

While he probably shouldn’t have taken that kind of risk, it was for the sake of his own curiosity he’d wanted to know why she’d been following him.  That, and he already knew he wasn’t truly alone.

 

If not Naruto, or between Neji and Sai, there were people assigned to watch him, his own protection detail, most likely hired by his parents; although they never directly mentioned anything to him about it, he can pick up on life energies.  Of course he was bound to notice. 

 

Not knowing what they look like, though, he never met them personally, and they generally kept their distance.  Odine hadn’t posed an immediate threat, so, ultimately, they didn’t interfere.

 

She just stood there in front of him, openly staring, caught in a weird sort of trance, completely nonresponsive when he asked her why she was following him.

 

But then something seemed to snap her out of it.  As if she didn’t realise how intently she’d been staring, as if the incident never occurred, and if it were only by chance they’d happened to pass each other near the commissary, she greeted him with a kind smile, even referred to him by name, with the sort of polite familiarity an older sister would have for a younger sibling.

 

It wasn’t surprising she recognised him.  That was almost a given living on base, but the way she’d been staring at him, searching for something, in that one singular moment before waking up found something in him that she…

 

He couldn’t keep that kind of thing from his parents or Itachi, but he almost didn’t tell Naruto.  Partly because he didn’t want Naruto to think he couldn’t handle himself alone on base, mostly because he knew Naruto was going to overreact, and he didn’t want that conversation turning into another argument he didn’t need.

 

There wasn’t much of a reaction from Naruto, though, nothing aside from telling him he needed to be more careful when he was by himself, even if he wasn’t really alone.

 

The second incident occurred on campus, in the science building.  It was nearing the end of the day, and he’d been assigned cleaning duty with Yuriy.

 

A year below him, Yuriy was normally pretty shy, maybe even a little meek, smart, preferred to keep to himself—not the kind of guy most people would peg as confrontational, so it was even more surprising what happened between them that day.

 

After they finished with the room, he was only a few steps away from the door, Yuriy trailing behind, but then suddenly right beside him, grip loose holding his wrist, breathing in the air around him, bringing himself too close.

 

They hadn’t interacted much before, didn’t even sit next to each in the one class they shared, and for someone like Yuriy to approach him so easily, much less try to crowd into his personal space, it caught him off guard.  Not because he felt threatened or anything, but because he knew it wasn’t Yuriy.  Although they didn’t know each other well, Sasuke knew the strange behaviour just wasn’t him.

 

In the moments leading up to it, during the entire time they were cleaning, he’d sensed nothing wrong.  The unexpected contact hadn’t even triggered an adverse reaction from his empathy.

 

Stranger still, however, was the look on Yuriy’s face, a muted smile turned hazy grin, in his eyes an almost sort of elation, staring at him rapt.

 

_“Yuriy, let go.”_

_“Why?  When it’s already so…”_

_“Let go.”_

_“But it feels so nice.  More of this, I want to…I need to …”_

_“Yuriy.”_

_“…oh…o-okay.  Let go.  Yes, I’m supposed to—”_

 

And then Naruto was just there.  On the way from his class held in the same building, as soon as Yuriy began to let go of Sasuke’s wrist, Naruto was announcing himself with an arm slung around Sasuke’s shoulders, playfully complaining about being hungry and having to wait so long on Sasuke.

 

Yuriy glanced down, shuffling his feet.  Raising his head, he apologised for having bumped into Sasuke, giving him a nervous smile, at the same time shying away from Naruto’s grin spread wide, overly friendly, the shine in blue eyes a little too keen beneath the light.

 

Naruto didn’t relax until Yuriy was gone, leaving them alone in the room.

 

_“Let me see your arm.”_

_“There’s nothing wrong with my arm.  Nothing happened, Naruto.”_

_“This time, Sasuke—this time.  What if that kid—”_

_“Don’t do that.  You’re not that much older than him, so don’t do that.  It wasn’t Yuriy’s fault.  If anything was wrong, I would’ve known.  I would’ve picked up on it.  My empathy’s at least good for that much, so why are you even upset?”_

_“I can’t believe you’re ev—of course, I’m upset, Sasuke.  That guy, he wasn’t even a magic user, but he still…”_

_“You didn’t see him.  He didn’t even know what he was—”_

_“That’s not the point, Sasuke.  That’s not an excuse.  What if I didn’t show up, huh?  What if someone else gets the drop on you, and I’m not there?  What if next time they don’t stop?_

_“Even if you knew Yuriy wasn’t going to do anything, you can’t just go around waiting to see what happens.  Not everybody’s going to respond to your magic that way, so what would you’ve done if he—_

_“…I know you can’t control it, but just…just try to be more careful, all right.  With other magic users, it doesn’t seem to be so bad, especially since we’re on base.  But with regular people, the ones who aren’t used to our kind of empathy, your Influence can hit pretty hard.  Some people a hell of a lot worse than others.”_

 

While Naruto may not be affected by his Influence, he’s been on the receiving end of his healing magic often enough, most effectively during that kiss, the first and only time he’s ever tried to breathe life into Naruto, literally, but, similar to his Influence, using his healing magic can induce the same euphoric sensations, just a much more tempered version of them.

 

The kiss surprised Naruto, too, because it was the first time he’d actually experienced the full effect of Sasuke’s healing magic.  Afterward, the best Naruto said he could compare it to was Ephemeral, which, while not considered a particularly strong recreational drug, is still a drug.

 

Given in legally allocated doses, it can only be purchased and consumed at authorised distribution sites, like the Fusion Bar in Jeil; usually, it’s in the form of highly diluted vapour, with a predetermined limit of exposure for each customer, in a designated area.

 

In its purest form, however, Ephemeral is considered a highly addictive, stimulant hallucinogen.  It’s still considered illegal in most sectors, and still one of the most highly trafficked party drugs across both the Alliance and the Federation, despite the new wave of partisan regulations passed in a last-minute attempt to curb the still mounting fatalities from such widespread use.

 

The one time he kissed Naruto using his life magic, and Ephemeral was the first thing Naruto thought to compare it to.

 

_“Because that’s always the worst kind of high, the one you’ll never be able to get enough of.”_

 

He doesn’t view his Influence strictly in terms of his empathy or his magic, yet the stronger his empathy and his magic become, the more pronounced effect those euphoric sensations seem to have.  Still, the idea of someone actually being able to get _high_ off him, even worse, various increments of high depending on how he uses his magic, it’s not something he tries to think about.

 

Swallowing the water in his mouth, Sasuke sets down his canteen, looking up at the series of muffled clunking noises coming from below, growing louder the thuds of Naruto’s boots against metal poles as Naruto works his way up the ladder.

 

Peering from the side of his chair, he watches as Naruto hoists himself up through the small hatch, appeared still wearing the black goggles covering the top half of his face.

 

With a grunt, Naruto bends from his knees to stand, dusting off his pants, before reaching for the upper right frame of his goggles, toggling off the electronic display mirrored across the dark-tinted lenses.  Gloved hands push the goggles over his forehead, revealing blue eyes that take a few seconds to adjust to the light in the control room.

 

Sasuke leans his head back.  “Finished?”

 

“Nah, I just need to take a little breather.  In case I do get tempted to actually break something.”

 

“I’m surprised you actually haven’t yet.”

 

Naruto snorts, walking towards Sasuke.  “Says you.”

 

“Still no luck?”

 

“We’ll see, I guess.”  Standing at Sasuke’s side, Naruto takes off a glove, pressing the back of his bare hand against Sasuke’s cheek.

 

“What’re you—”  Leaning away, Sasuke makes a face, pushing aside Naruto’s hand, only to have Naruto reach to feel his neck.  “Stop doing that.  I’m fine.”

 

“Okay, sure,” Naruto says absently, taking off his other glove and then slipping both into his pocket.  He turns towards the viewscreen, with his finger and thumb enlarging one of the modules.  “Says the obviously delirious guy with a fever and swollen lymph nodes—you sure this sequence chain is reading right?”

 

“Nothing’s changed, Naruto.”  Sasuke’s eyes close with the emergence of a yawn.  Removing the hand covering his mouth, he opens his eyes to Naruto staring at him.  “What?”

 

Naruto makes a gesture towards his PCD lying on top of the console, on the PCD’s screen shown files from some of the ship’s configuration settings.  “So that’s what you‘ve been doing, when you were going over the ship’s schematics…”

 

“Oh, that.  I was just messing around with it.  It wasn’t like I was doing anything else.”

 

“Still.  Repurposing that much code, how’d you even manage to rig up this type of cloaking device?  I thought most Tolstoys weren’t equipped to handle—”

 

“Normally, yeah.  It’s still a cruiser, though.  Having those kinds of sensors, it’d defeat the purpose on a ship like this.”

 

It’s not a cloaking device per se, in the sense of being able to compare to the cloaking technique used through shadow magic.  It’s more so a collection of different types of deflection systems that extend beyond the standard radar detection, different low observable technologies that together offer a broader range of concealment through both visual and no visual means.

 

To make an actual object disappear, however, with his shadow magic, he can do it. He’s tried it before, but unless he’s in constant contact with it, though, the effect isn’t sustainable without any life energy his magic can latch on to.

 

What most people commonly term a cloaking device is actually a set of advanced deflection systems, the kind expected to be found on military land, water, and air transport.  Rarely does that level come standard on a larger ship like this, simply because it’s built for long-distance travel in space, where there isn’t much use for stealth technology yet.  It’d just be a waste of resources.

 

Alongside the immense processing power needed to keep up with the continued advancement of detection systems, stealth technology has become increasingly expensive to develop and maintain.  Even with reduced costs from more efficient and readily available energy sources, it’s far from feasible to employ cloaking devices on a large production scale.

 

That being said, though not military-grade, many ships do have some kind of stealth capability.  Over time, maybe even out of convenience as interstellar travel became more prevalent, it’s been incorporated into the accepted framework for the majority of models out there, regardless of size. 

 

It’s just a matter of tweaking a few things here and there.

 

“Right.”  Naruto gives a small nod.  “Because there’s no point in having that kind of technology in a vacuum.”

 

“Still, the basic components were already there.  And it shouldn’t drain too much running off ancillary power.  Nothing that’ll affect normal systems or the ship’s diagnostic functions.”

 

“Since the rest of the ship’s systems are hooked up to my PCD, too, that means this is still compatible with remote access, right?”

 

“Should be.  I just finished, so I couldn’t test it back at the cave yesterday, but…”

 

“What’s the deflection range?”

 

“About twenty kilometres.”

 

“You’re shitting me.”  Naruto turns a still somewhat sceptical gaze towards the engine room hatch.  “All from this clunker?”

 

“The same clunker you’ve apparently been trying to entice with your very highly disturbing mojo.”

 

“Hey—”

 

“But like I said, the components were already there.  It just took me a while to figure out how to work around some of the initial configurations, recoding a few things.  Didn’t have to do that much, though.”

 

“That’s actually kind of a little…”

 

“Kind of what?”  Sasuke pulls Itachi’s jacket tighter around him, frowning at the sudden, strange sensation that passes through him, almost a sort of déjà vu.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

Naruto continues to stare a little longer, a flash in his eyes of something Sasuke can’t read, but then he shakes his head, with a small laugh giving Sasuke a playful jab on the shoulder.  “Nothing.  No reason.  It’s, uh…actually, it’s pretty amazing.  One less thing to worry about down the line.  Makes me feel a little better about finally getting out of this place.”

 

Leaning against the console, Naruto sighs, rubbing the heel of his palm against his cheek, worsening the dark mark already smudged across his face, sprinkled with occasional specks of sand.

 

Sasuke glances at the rag hanging out from Naruto’s pocket, coloured by streaks of grease and grime, more of a blackened grey than its original light blue.  He almost wonders how many times Naruto’s accidently wiped his face with it.

 

Refresher sprays can only do so much in an acrid environment, and the ship doesn’t have extensive accommodations beyond a set of narrow cleaning stalls, however lavish they are. The water still comes out a little cold, but that’s not such an important fix to be concerned with.  After discovering the lab yesterday, any opportunity to wash off the remnants from that place was more than welcome.

 

“You still have sand on your face.”

 

“I’m not surprised.”  Naruto gives a light snort.  “It’s like that training mission back at Naus all over again.  Got sand in places where I never should’ve found it.  There was sand in places I wish Kiba never told me he found it,” he mutters, but it’s with a pleased sort of reminiscence, with the beginning traces of a soft smile.  “Heh.  I didn’t even know sand could get in those kinds of places.”

 

Sasuke reaches for his canteen, taking another sip of water that goes down cool in his throat.

 

He’s been around Kiba before.  The eight other trainees in Naruto’s squad, he already knows them, doesn’t mind being around them, although Kiba can be a little loud sometimes, boisterous on his best day, sometimes even worse than Naruto.

 

Naruto’s always tried to involve him, keep him from feeling isolated, and with the other trainees in his squad because they’re more than just his friends.  More than just the fellow trainees in his squad, they’re the people who look out for Naruto.  They’re the people Naruto trusts with his life.

 

Well past their initial curiosity about his life magic, they don’t treat him differently because of it, or treat him like he’s only Naruto’s tagalong, on occasion even inviting him when they go off base, eager to complain to him how much they get tired of having to put up with a goody two-shoes like Naruto.

 

But they’re still Naruto’s friends.  Not his.  Because there are so many things they’re able to share with Naruto, in so many ways he’ll never be able to relate—there’s a different kind of camaraderie between them, not the kind of relationship built upon a misguided sense of responsibility from Naruto.

 

“Being a wind elemental  is good and all, but with so much sand all over the place, I can’t just  use my magic to blow it away without knowing if any of the equipment’s been contaminated or not, especially the really sensitive stuff.

 

“The rate we’re going, might just be better off scouring the whole ship with a toothbrush.  But we don’t have time for that.  Seriously.  What good is a DP scan, if it doesn’t work?”

 

Naruto stands away from the console, arms raised, fingers laced behind his head.

 

“I mean, we know the power source isn’t the problem.  I know for a fact those power block subsets are properly routed to the engines—all of them, I checked it myself.  Plus, multiple engines.  That’s what redundancy systems are for, so lack of a primary isn’t the problem we’re dealing with here.”

 

He turns on his feet, gaze drawn to the floor, lowering his arms as he looks up.  “Computer, run diagnostic code 2-4-1-6-8-3.”

 

_“Integrated system control status found normal.  Propulsion and navigational systems operating within normal parameters.  Failure to initialise controllers for attitude sensors.  Please be advised, recommended diagnostic 4-6-3-2 in pro—”_

 

“Computer, cancel last entry.  Run diagnostic code 2-4-1-7-3-0.”

 

_“Diagnostic code 2-4-1-7-3-0 cannot be administered while engine safety locks are disengaged.  Engine two sensor connectors not detected.  Please be advised, engine two saf—”_

 

“Of course it’s engine two.  It’s clearly engine two.  It’s not like I don’t know that already.”  Naruto groans, fingers rubbing at his temples.  “If power was connecting to engine two like it’s supposed to, we wouldn’t need to run a diagnostic check to see what keeps making it stall.”

 

“The computer isn’t programmed to understand sarcasm.”

 

Naruto turns to Sasuke, stares at him blankly.  He blinks once, twice.  “That’s still not being helpful, Sasuke.”

 

“I’m supposed to be?” Sasuke says.  “I totally got this, isn’t that what you told me?”

 

“You.”  Naruto points a finger at Sasuke, extending his arm to prod Sasuke’s cheek.  “I’ll get back to you on that one, but for now, let me think.”

 

Sasuke moves Naruto’s hand away.  “Any idea why the sensors aren’t being picked up?”

 

“I’m thinking some kind of misfire, or maybe just a simple misread somewhere that’s throwing the whole thing off.  Because even when it starts to idle, it still sounds like—”

 

Naruto knocks three times on the armrest of Sasuke’s chair.  “Actually, you know what…

 

“Computer, access main engine programme grid.  Access engine system memory logs.  Limit to include all core dumps within the last ninety-six hours.”

 

_“System read error 1-6-4-5.  Requested memory logs not found.  Please be advised, system memory access while engine safety locks are diseng—”_

 

“Please, not this again, _please_ —I swear, if I have to hear that polite crap one more time…”  Naruto lets out another loud groan.  “Tell me there’s some way to shut this thing off.”

 

Muting the audio of the computer’s interface, there may be a way to do it, but going by what he’s learned of the ship’s software setup, it’d probably take a lot more time and effort than need be.

 

“What about your override codes?” he offers Naruto instead.  “Shouldn’t you be able to bypass any restrictions through those?”

 

Naruto shakes his head.  “Not without specific tools.  I only have surface codes.  I can’t actually get into the system without a specialised ODB reader for the ship’s engines.  That runs on a completely different grid.  On my own, it won’t let me do more than the standard quick fixes.”

 

“Even for the fuel cell relays?”  Sasuke frowns at the viewscreen.  “I thought…”

 

“Yeah, that’s why I’ve been doing everything the hard way.  Which sort of makes sense, I guess, since you don’t want just anyone being able to mess around with the engines.  If a ship gets that bad off, can’t do much of anything without being docked at a repair bay.

 

“But to the point of practically shutting down whenever something goes wrong—for all I know, it could be something as easy as a broken dip stick loose in a fuel injector somewhere throwing off the readings for the cabin air pressure gauge by a couple psi.”

 

Slowly, very slowly, Sasuke turns his head away from the viewscreen, towards Naruto.

 

“Hey, something like that actually did happen to me once, all right.  When I was helping Iou restore one of those old-timey, antique transporters he keeps in his garage.”

 

Sasuke blinks.

 

 “Jeeze, an electronic dipstick, then.”  Naruto huffs, with his hand throwing a few dismissive waves in Sasuke’s direction.  “Anyway, the point is, with this kind of heavily automated system, without separate sandboxes to play in, it’s harder to isolate smaller events, so, there’s no real way of knowing what’s wrong unless we strip everything down and start from the bottom up.

 

“I mean, I’m all for the integrated convenience and extra safety features, but it’s like they engineered this whole entire thing using all these tiny little parts on purpose, cramming them all in real close together in these tiny little compartments normal people can barely squeeze into, with the crazy idea that nothing would ever break down.

 

“That’s the thing I have with leisure ships like this.  They’re not bad to fly on their own.  Even I can’t say that.  And when they work, they really are something else.  But even the smallest little thing can make everything go wrong, so it really is a hassle for people who actually do know their way around a ship.

 

 “…although I guess getting blindsided by a scouter on a suicide run and crash landing on a desert planet isn’t one of those scenarios the engineers thought they had to plan for.”

 

“But wouldn’t there still be some kind of trail?”  Sasuke pulls up a maintenance module on the viewscreen, a log of the ship’s last recorded ancillary functions within the last twelve hours.  “Even a simple misread, shouldn’t the computer still be able to track whe—”

 

There’s a slight jolt that runs through him, makes Sasuke pause a small shock from the tips of his fingers barely even pressed against the touch panel.

 

He doesn’t move his hand.  Again, there’s that slight jolt, this time a tingling sensation that feels more like his—

 

…that’s different.

 

It felt like a normal shock, a normal accumulation of static charge, and yet at the same time somehow seemed to resonate from within his life force?  But if his life force had acted as some sort of catalyst for the discharge, except his magic’s never reacted that way before, so why would it—

 

“Got something?”

 

He nearly starts at the hand placed on the back of his chair, at Naruto’s voice suddenly beside him close to his right ear.  That shock, that spark caused by his own magic, it couldn’t have just been a figment of his imagination.  Although both his empathy and his magic have been on the fritz lately, he knows he’s not going crazy because of it.  The way his life magic reacted, that means something, but if Naruto didn’t even notice anything…

 

“You’re not spacing out on me, are you?”

 

“No, I...”  Sasuke stares at the viewscreen, averting his eyes from the concern in Naruto’s gaze shrewd.

 

Maybe it really was nothing after all.

 

“The computer hasn’t picked up on anything here, either.  Same thing you said earlier.”

 

Naruto sighs.  “I figured.  It’s still not connecting for some reason.  And I can’t find any signs of fluid leakage or power drainage or anything that would cause something like that.  Otherwise, it should be fine.  So, I’m thinking, maybe if we…” 

 

Left hand still resting on the back of the chair, he reaches across Sasuke with his right arm, on the touch panel renders a small numeric keypad.

 

“Let’s try this, then.  Let’s see if…” he trails off with a vague hum, skimming over data from the ship’s last confirmed diagnostic run scrolled along the viewscreen. “The batteries still aren’t holding a charge, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Even if we could run a full diagnostic, with the risk of all systems having to go offline,” Naruto says, putting in a series of numbers through the keypad, “I wonder if there’s enough wrong with the processors that it actually might keep the computer from coming back online if we do a hard reset to reboot the entire system.”

 

Sasuke tilts his head back a little, studying Naruto’s profile.  “You think that’s why?”

 

“Since we can’t even run a diagnostic to find out which processors were affected, without any kind of feedback that’s actually useful, who knows?  It still won’t respond to the usual debug codes.  Still won’t let me access the last core dump from the log before the ELS kicked in.”

 

Naruto narrows his eyes at the console, biting at the corner of his bottom lip, pulling up another repair module.  “How can information like that just go missing, though?”

 

He begins an impatient tapping against the headrest of Sasuke’s chair, fingers stopped with a controlled exhale.  “You checked the rear overlay for the ion subspace engines, too?”

 

“Mm-hm.”

 

“And the propulsion systems?  And the ACS sensors?  All the internal—”

 

“The rest of the readings are fine, Naruto.  You were able to fix that much, but the engine diagnostic checks still won’t go through.”

 

“You sure you used my code for an override to the safety starts?”

 

“I’m sure, Naruto.” 

 

“I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing, but I—”

 

“I know you’re not.”  Sasuke doesn’t look away from the viewscreen, doesn’t look into Naruto’s eyes watching him.  “It’s nothing.”

 

Naruto’s hold on the back of the chair tightens, fingers digging into the cushion of the headrest, before he begins to loosen his grip.

 

“Okay.”  Naruto breathes in softly.  “All right.  Start her up for me again?”

 

“You plan on shutting it down?”

 

“No, with everything else that’s been going wrong, I don’t want to take that chance.  I can’t.  Not when it’s y—”

 

“…Naruto?”

 

“But everything looks okay—it should be okay this time.  There shouldn’t be anything wrong.  I did everything right.  I made sure.”

 

Sasuke wants to ask what Naruto was going to say, what Naruto was holding back, but he doesn’t.  With the input of Naruto’s code, he initiates the start sequence.

 

A much too familiar whir is the immediate response, even worse than prior attempts because this time it doesn’t last a full ten seconds, doesn’t even make it to six, a wheezing drone that quickly dies out with a lacklustre whimper, cutting the start sequence short.

 

“ _Damn it!_ ”

 

Naruto pushes himself away from Sasuke, with the bottom of his fist hits hard the back of the pilot’s chair.  “It should’ve worked because I had it that time—I _know_ I had it that time.  I know I did.” 

 

“…you’re going to break something.”

 

“Tch.”  Naruto scowls, plops himself in the pilot’s chair, falling into the seat with an unceremonious thud.  “What’s there even left to break?”

 

Sasuke doesn’t answer, just lets Naruto vent.

 

“None of this makes any sense.  There’s no good reason for all of the engines to keep stalling, so I don’t understand why it’s—I know my stuff.  I know I’m good at what I do.  I have to be.  And I know it should‘ve gone through, just like the last time it should’ve worked.

 

“Everything about this goddamn ship’s been so annoying, and I don’t get it.

 

“I don’t get it, Sasuke.  I don’t…”

 

Naruto covers his face with his hands, shoulders slumped, elbows propped on his knees.  He rubs at his eyes with his fingers, hands sliding up his face to rest his forehead against his palms.

 

Since they’ve been kids, Naruto’s the one who took care of him, the one who always said everything was going to be okay, with that inane grin on his face always seemed able to pull through regardless of the situation, this stubborn, stupidly optimistic guy, and to see him now so demoralised, openly doubting himself, to hear him sound so unsure, it bothers him.

 

It really does bother him, because it’s the kind of hurt he can’t fix with his magic, the kind of hurt that stays despite his natural inclination to heal.  With his empathy, he can at least alleviate some of it, but emotions are fickle things, too tenuous things, and the only way he’d be able to permanently alleviate that kind of hurt, is to deprive someone of their emotions completely.

 

Because for all Naruto’s faults, for all the instances where he and Naruto don’t necessarily agree, whenever Naruto’s convictions sometimes get in the way, he knows Naruto only tries to do what he believes is right.  And in his eyes, that’s always been enough.  He never saw Naruto as perfect, so he still can’t understand why Naruto expects so much of himself all the time. 

 

Maybe because of who his mom and dad are, maybe because he’s from such a well-established family like Uzumaki, but Naruto’s always put a lot of pressure on himself to be the reliable kind of guy people know they can depend on.

 

He’s also an unexpectedly proud kind of guy who doesn’t like to let it show, who likes to pretend he’s above being affected by his own warped sense of inflated expectations.

 

But Naruto makes mistakes, too, as much as anyone else.  And what he’s been able to do so far, that he was able to do even this much on his own, it really is a testament to his skill and the person he’s become.

 

However, Naruto’s generally not an angry person.  That isn’t to say he doesn’t feel or express anger, but when he is angry, it’s usually a symptom of something else, the kind of anger he doesn’t hold on to for very long.

 

From Naruto’s outburst, though, this doesn’t feel angry.  This feels more…

 

“You’re antsy about something.”

 

“I still can’t get this ship off the ground.”  Naruto scoffs.  “Why wouldn’t I be angry?”

 

“No, I know you’re not really angry.  You’re antsy, so what’s making you feel that way?”

 

Naruto doesn’t raise his head, but he lowers his arms.  “There’s a difference you can actually tell?”

 

The question Naruto doesn’t ask, is whether it has to do with his empathy.  At a certain point, Naruto’s shields wouldn’t be the problem.  It wouldn’t hurt, being exposed to Naruto’s emotions, but it’d still be him, because his empathy is that much stronger, regardless if he’s conscious of using it or not.

 

The importance of keeping up with his own shields, it’s more than simply creating emotional barriers to help separate his mind from what other people are feeling.  Although that’s considered the standard for magic users, for him, there’s a greater emphasis on suppressing his empathetic ability.

 

Because the moment he fails to keep his emotions in, that’s the moment he fails to keep everything else out.

 

During his first year with Iyashi, his therapy sessions were mostly trial and error, trying to figure out an accessible process for a kid with delayed, abnormal empathy development.

 

They started off small, with cognitive exercises that weren’t overwhelming, the kinds of developmental activities more appropriate for a three year old, rather than the seven year old he was, but Iyashi would always ask how certain things would make him feel, push him a little more each session to confront different connections with his emotions, instead of immediately shying away from anything that made him feel, and it worked.

 

He still couldn’t handle being around more than two people at once, not unless Itachi was there with him, but he was eventually able to reach the stage where he could begin actively working on what would become the foundation for his emotional barriers.

 

The way he remembers Iyashi explaining it, the way it was simplified for him as a kid, was to imagine creating those emotional barriers like choosing what kind of clothes he wanted to wear in specific scenarios:

 

_“If someone tells you it’s cold outside, would you choose to wear a light jacket or a heavy coat?”_

_“A coat, Iyashi, I’d wear a coat.  If it’s cold outside, my mom and dad told me I’m not supposed to leave the house without my coat, because they don’t want me to get sick.  Why do you keep asking me obvious questions?  I don’t see how that’s supposed to help.”_

_“Well, because those are the questions I want you to think about.  So, again, let’s say someone tells you it’s cold outside, but this time your mom and dad allow you to wear whatever you want.  Would you pick a light jacket or a heavy coat?”_

_“…still the coat.”_

_“Is there a specific coat you have in mind?”_

_“Does it have to be a specific coat?”_

_“Not necessarily, but if there is a specific coat you thought of first, how would you describe it to me?”_

_“The coat I thought of first… the blue one, I guess.  Dark blue.  Actually, it looks black from a distance, but it really is blue.  And it has these silver, rounded buttons.  Eight of them, in two rows that stop right about here, a little below my waist.  And the collar, when I lift it from around my neck, underneath the back of it, it’s red.”_

_“I see.  It’s a military style coat?”_

_“Mm.  I don’t always wear the belt, though.  I don’t like the way it feels.”_

_“Is there a reason you thought of that coat, or is that coat the only one you have?”_

_“No, I have more coats.  You know that.  You’ve seen them.  It’s just, Itachi gave me the blue one.  It might be a little too heavy, depending on how cold it is, because you didn’t say that, but it always keeps me warm, so that’s why I like wearing it.”_

 

Applying that analogy to his empathy, if an emotion made him uncomfortable, or if being around too many people at once became too much, Iyashi wanted him to think about wearing what would make him feel the most comfortable.  And small details like how many buttons he had, if his jacket was zipped up all the way, or whether or not he wanted to roll up his sleeves, Iyashi would have him focus on that, too, in some ways as a sort of fail-safe, but also so it wouldn’t put such a strain on him mentally.

 

It’s different now that he’s older.  His barriers are a lot more complex, more than less a patchwork of interchangeable layers in his mind he’s able sustain on an intuitive level, his fail-safes already interwoven with constantly receding and expanding seams, but the initial concept hasn’t deviated that much.  Depending on the situation, how many people he’s around, how familiar he is with them, choosing which layers to make use of, it’s become an afterthought.

 

He usually doesn’t have to worry about his emotional barriers around small groups, although even on base it still takes a little more out of him sometimes, if he spends too long around too dense a crowd of people, but it's an area where he can only push his limits in carefully planned stages.

 

And yet around one of the few people he can afford not to be so guarded, around Naruto, since they’ve been alone, since Itachi and Juugo have been gone, he’s noticed a persistent strain on his shields.  One by one, he’s come to depend on more and more layers, as his barriers gradually become less stable, seams not quite collapsed but too far receded.

 

Maybe that’s why it’s taking so long for him to recuperate.  His empathy is as much a part of his life magic as his life force, but he’ll be fine.  It’s just Naruto.  He knows he can at least manage that much, because it’s not due to his empathy that he’s been able to pick up on the subtle change in Naruto’s behaviour, since his last conversation with Itachi a nervous energy Naruto’s been trying not to show.

 

It’s more than Naruto having a bad feeling.  Why Naruto’s been so antsy, there’s a reason for that.  There’s something Naruto’s not telling him.

 

Naruto lifts his head, giving Sasuke a questioning stare, pensive, brow furrowed with a frown not fully formed, but he doesn’t try to press any further about the state of Sasuke’s empathy.

 

Sasuke responds in kind, just watches him, waiting.

 

“…I guess there’s no point in doing that with you.”  Naruto lets out a heavy sigh.  “That bad feeling I have about this place, it just keeps getting worse.  Me being antsy means I really, really need to get the ship up and running again.  Ever since we got here, nothing about this place has been sitting right with me, so the sooner we leave, the better.”

 

“You’re starting to sound like Itachi.”

 

“I…”  Naruto stops himself before he even begins to start, paused with his mouth held open, holding up one finger.  After a moment short-lived, he closes his mouth, a little self-conscious lowering his hand.  “…don’t know how to take that right now.”

 

“Take it at face value.”

 

“Considering your brother’s both borderline certifiable and a part-time conspiracy theorist, I think that just might be worse.”

 

“Not my CO.”  Leaning over the armrest of his chair, Sasuke reaches for the dog tags hanging around Naruto’s neck, giving them a light tug, hand moved up to curl around the small beads of the chain caught between his fingers.  “I’m not even military, remember.”

 

Naruto snorts.  “How long you plan on throwing that one back at me?”

 

Sasuke meets blue eyes with a soft hum, at Naruto’s raised eyebrows giving a sharper tug to the dog tags, drawing Naruto only a little closer towards him.

 

“…are you really that upset?”

 

Because he doesn’t want to answer, Sasuke releases the dog tags, letting them fall back to Naruto’s chest.

 

Naruto sighs, sitting up in the chair, hands falling over his lap.  “Honestly, it’s not that I don’t trust Itachi’s instincts,” he says.  “Because I do.  And not just because he’s Itachi.

 

“The guy definitely has the experience to back it up.  Saying that, though, how he acts on them is something different altogether.  I can’t always see his endgame, but I know he’s not the kind of guy to make decisions out of the blue.”

 

Naruto snorts, running his fingers through his already messy hair.  “Except for that one time he powered up and tried to run me through with his sword.”

 

It wasn’t his brother’s finest moment, that much Sasuke will say, although Itachi catching Naruto during the act of sneaking in through the window of his little brother’s room, while listening to Naruto loudly complaining about having to go all the way to the port in Mitsubari to find the special brand of condoms his little brother likes, it probably wasn’t the most ideal situation for Itachi to find out about that aspect of their relationship.

 

Adding to the fact this happened while he was still under house arrest, not even a few weeks ago, it was duly noted his brother hadn’t been at all impressed.

 

(Itachi made sure Naruto wouldn’t have the opportunity to climb through any windows after that.)

 

“And it’s scary sometimes, you know,” Naruto says, “how far he’s able to think ahead.  In situations like these, you really can’t afford to second-guess yourself, but he’s always so sure in what he does, and it’s hard not to admire him for that.

 

“I know I call Itachi paranoid all the time—the guy’s as paranoid as they come—but the things he does, usually there’s a good reason for it.  The way he split us up like this, keeping you away from Juugo, wanting me and you to stay close to the ship, yeah, didn’t take long to put two and two together.

 

“Plus, you know how much he doesn’t like not knowing things, so, I mean, you’ve got to figure something’s up, right.  Just getting the chance to be around Itachi again, I didn’t really think much of it at first, but now…”

 

“Now?”

 

Naruto shifts closer to the edge of his seat, adjusting his goggles, pushing them further on top of his head.  “Even though we were only supposed to be a small convoy, as important as it is for us to show up for those peace summits, that we ended up in this situation at all, wouldn’t you say it’s a little weird?”

 

“Weird as in…”

 

“Itachi being the one to fly us in a cruiser like this,” Naruto says.  “The three of us together conveniently alone.  Think about it.”

 

“I wasn’t aware I was allowed to have an opinion anymore.”

 

Naruto sucks his teeth, bumping his knee against Sasuke’s leg.  “Don’t be such a smartass.  You always have an opinion, whether you think I want to hear it or not.”

 

Sasuke doesn’t disagree, but he does take into consideration what Naruto said, although, truth be told, for the same reason as Naruto, he really hadn’t given too much thought to the idea of travelling with Itachi.

 

Outside the appearances he’s obligated to make at the peace summits, even if it is simply for the sake of political posturing, he really doesn’t get the opportunity to travel off world, so, compared to Naruto, who actually does, he’s far less likely to question this kind of situation.

 

“…I don’t know.”

 

He tugs on the hood of his jacket, pulling it closer around the back of his neck, frowning at the dimmed viewscreen on standby.  “We were still travelling in neutral territory.  And we’ve travelled alone with Itachi before.  It’s nothing new.”

 

Yet, in the back of his mind, maybe the situation did feel a little suspect, since it was the first time in a long time neither Sai nor Neji were personally travelling with him to a summit; instead, Sai and Neji had flown ahead in a similar, nearly identical Tolstoy model.

 

But again, that’s nothing new.  For Naruto and him, they don’t need an escort fleet.  In their case, it’s less conspicuous that way.

 

Normally, they leave separately from their parents, since their attendance is more a show of formality rather than an actual necessity.  But those kinds of decisions are made far in advance and take extensive planning.  Whatever security and logistics involved, there’s a dedicated team that sees to everything months ahead of time.

 

And while the summit takes place every three months, it's normal for them to receive notice only a few weeks prior, and even then the actual dates aren't publicised until after the summits have already taken place.

 

Up until now, it seemed like the usual precautions had been taken, stopping at the outpost in Selat to refuel, and yet that unmarked ship was still able to single them out.

 

“Yeah, but you at least thought about it, right?” Naruto says.  “I mean, you’re still you.”  He makes a vague gesture with his hand.  “You had to have thought about it.”

 

“The ship that attacked us?”

 

“Whoever tried to shoot us down, whoever’s behind all this, for all the damage it didn’t do, that’s a little too much effort just to be a cry for attention, isn’t it?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, any way you look at it, that ship that barrelled into us, how small it was, following us all the way out here on a scouter that can’t even carry that much fuel, no way was that anything else but a suicide run.

 

“It’s not like people wouldn’t notice if we didn’t show up.  They have to.  It’s been days since we missed our check-in.  Everyone knows we’re missing by now, so, you do realise the kind of shitstorm this kind of thing’s going to cause, don’t you?  Not only has something happened to us, it’s happened to _you_.  Nothing’s ever happened to you like this before.”

 

“So, what?  Trying to throw us off course was just to cause some kind of panic?  That doesn’t make any sense.  How would they have even known that it would be enough to make us land on Barrah, when we didn’t even know about Barrah?”

 

Naruto shakes his head.  “Doesn’t matter how they did it.  Just what they did it for.”

 

“Okay, but if we’re supposed to serve as some kind of distraction, a distraction for what?”

 

“It’s not like you don’t keep up with the news and everything that’s going on.  On both sides, all these rogue groups suddenly popping up everywhere, things are tense enough as it is, and if anything happens to you—”

 

“You and Itachi, too.”

 

“—no, I mean, if anything happens to _you_ , Sasuke, even if you just go missing for a few days, but especially while it happens on the way to one of those peace summits—all this time we’ve been able to protect you.  Not just me and Itachi or our parents, but the Alliance as a whole has stood by you, because you’re the one who fits the agenda they’ve been pushing hard for years.

 

“And now you suddenly disappear from the radar?  Can you even imagine how that looks?”

 

Sasuke doesn’t want to acknowledge what Naruto’s saying because he doesn’t want to give any more credence to his own already exaggerated importance.  He can acknowledge that he may be the common denominator in everything that’s been going on so far, but he doesn’t want to believe he’s the cause of it.

 

“Who would even go through all this trouble, then?  What’s there to even gain?”

 

“You’ve been around the scene long enough.  You know how it is,” Naruto says.  “When something goes wrong, people automatically start pointing fingers.  Positions start changing.  Seats start to get emptied, start filling up quick again.”

 

“Yeah, but it has to be someone who’d be able to directly benefit from it.  Suppose a void in power is the intended goal.  One of those rogue groups, they don’t have the means to pull these kinds of strings, and definitely not on this scale.  To even get a hold of that kind of information, that they’d even know where we’d be…”

 

“To be honest with you,” Naruto says, voice low, uneasy, rubbing the outside of his knee with his palm.  “I’m thinking inside job.  Someone close enough to have ties going all the way up to the Council.  Because that’s what it’s really starting to look like.”

 

He pauses, removing his hand from his knee with a thoughtful frown.  “But with all the time to make an attempt to get rid of us before, still doesn’t explain why they’d strike now.”

 

In politics, or any field that offers competitive positions of power, it’s almost inevitable, something that can be expected, but for Naruto to imply someone that high up on the hierarchy could and would be involved, this can’t be the first time the thought’s crossed his mind.

 

“Even if that is the case,” Sasuke says, “I mean, let’s say it is about wanting to get us out of the way, an attempt made by someone who’d have that kind of power working from the inside, that high up the ladder, there have to be better ways to do it.”

 

“Sure,” Naruto agrees with a simple shrug.  “Anyone can see that a mile off, but—well, again, it doesn’t matter how they did it.  If it was just me and Itachi, that’d be completely different, but _you_ go missing, the first person everybody’s going to want to go after is Orochimaru.”

 

“I know there’s a history there, but wouldn’t that be…”

 

“Seems like an obvious choice, right?”

 

“Too obvious.”

 

Naruto nods.  “Oh, yeah.  Way too easy.  Especially with what Juugo told us.  That’s our tie-in right there.  And even though we don’t have any proof to pin Orochimaru for what happened here on Barrah, I still wouldn’t put it past him, you know.

 

“But for something like this, even if he somehow had the intel about where and when we were going…”  Naruto gives a slight shake of his head.  “Nah, Orochimaru’s not that roundabout.  As much as I can’t stand the guy, it’s definitely not his style.  If he’s going to stab you anywhere, it’s going to be in the front, so he can watch the kind of expression you’d make.

 

“Because he’s going to be flashy about it.  He wants people to know what he’s doing so he can get credit.  And the guy’s a serious talker.  As obsessed as he is with you, all those times he’s tried to get at you, it wasn’t like he did anything to hide it.  And why should he?  The kinds of crazy stuff he gets away with, he already knows nobody’s going to do anything against him, except maybe give him a slap on the wrist.

 

“It can’t be coincidence we ended up on a place like Barrah, either, and then Juugo telling you about the Snake Charmer who happened to be called Orochimaru.  A name like that is really, really uncommon.  And even if it turns out he was behind what happened at that lab, what was done to those people, as much I don’t want to admit it, I honestly can’t see him for this.”

 

“…you really think someone went through all this trouble just to set up Orochimaru as a patsy?”

 

“What I think is,” Naruto says, voice steady, faced away from Sasuke with his head lowered, arms crossed over his knees, “I need to find out what’s wrong with these engines, so we can get the hell out of here.”

 

“But if we can’t get the ship moving by the end of the day tomorrow, and another storm comes our way…”

 

Naruto sighs.

 

Lower lip caught behind his teeth, Sasuke pulls on the sleeves of his jacket, thumbs pressed against the inside of the cuffs held over his palms.  “…I can raise the ship.”

Naruto doesn’t even make the pretence of listening, doesn’t let stray his gaze away from whatever’s so interesting on the floor, doesn’t even raise his head to fully acknowledge Sasuke’s suggestion.

 

“No.”

 

“You’re not even—”

 

“Seriously, I’m not knocking on your abilities or anything, but you’ve never done something like that before.  And really, you’re not exactly in the best shape to find out if you can.”

 

“At least I can still try.”

 

This time Naruto raises his head, blue eyes sharp, lips drawn tight.  “Something’s seriously wrong with you, Sasuke.  We’ve already been here four days— _four days_ —and you’re not even close to healing like you normally would.  No way is overworking yourself going to make it any better.”

 

“If we get hit again with a storm like last night, any longer over this sand trap and we may not be able to get the ship back out.  You know that.  You already said you can’t use your magic without the risk of causing more damage, and we don’t have time to dig our way out by hand, but if I use my magic—”

 

“Not happening.”

 

“Itachi said—”

 

“I know what the admiral said.  He gave me a direct order.  What my CO says goes.  And he already told you no the first time.”

 

“It’s still earth magic.  I’ve used my elemental magic on metal before.  I’ve moved metal before.”

 

“Yeah, okay, but moving something this heavy?”  Naruto gives a derisive scoff.  “Please.  I know I called it a clunker earlier, but you trying to move this?  There’s wishful thinking, and then there’s this is how sick you must be, because you seriously must be out of your damn mind if you think I’m going to let you—”

 

“ _Let me_ , Naruto?  What aren’t you going to _let me_ do?”

 

Blue eyes regard him bright, belying a sardonic smile, and Naruto gives a soft shake of his head.  “You don’t want to try me, Sasuke.  Trust me.  You really, really don’t.”

 

“And what the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

 

“It means end of story.  Itachi said you’re not supposed to use your magic.”

 

“I know what my brother said.”

 

“Good.  Because I shouldn’t have to tell you again.”

 

“Why can’t you just—”

 

“Listen, I know you want to help, Sasuke.  I get that.  Of all people, you _know_ I get what that’s like, but right now, I need for you to just _listen_ , all right.

 

“Besides, what if you end up damaging the ship, huh?  Did you even stop to think about that?  Using your magic to move that much weight, the state you’re in, you’ll do more harm than good if you drop it.”

 

Sasuke purses his lips, not backing down from Naruto’s stare.  They’re not going to get anywhere like this, he knows, but he doesn’t want to admit Naruto’s not wrong, because he’s tired of feeling underestimated.  He’s tired of having to admit everyone else is right.

 

“Fine.  We still have to find some way to raise the ship, though.”

 

“Without your magic.”

 

“We could try the lab again.”

 

“Tell me you don’t seriously want to go back to that living nightmare.”

 

“There has to be some kind of power source there.  A generator or something we might be able to scrap for parts.  I know there’s something else we’re missing.”

 

“Besides all the bones, you mean.” Naruto gives Sasuke a sceptical look, sliding his hand up the side of his leg.  “First off, uh, no.  I don’t know if those people were locked in there or what—I’m actually not sure I even want to at this point, but whatever might’ve been there, it’s no good to us right now.

 

“Already did a clean sweep.  Having to backtrack and wasting time we don’t have, we’d just be going all the way out there for nothing.”

 

“Then, you stay here, and I can go while you—”

 

“Itachi said to stay together.  So, yeah.  We’re staying together.”

 

 “It’s not like I’m even doing anything useful.  I’m just sitting here, not—”

 

“If Itachi told me you’re not supposed to use your magic, what makes you think he’d be okay with me letting you go off on your own?  There’s _one_ comm.  If something happens, I won’t be able to contact you.  And even if we had two, I still wouldn’t leave you alone and definitely not in the condition you’re in.”

 

Sasuke forces himself to take in a breath.

 

They’re both stubborn to a fault, and yet as adamant as Naruto is about certain things, specifically when it comes to these kinds of things how much more determined he is to simply just push and keep on pushing until he gets his way, he’s usually not so unwilling to listen.

 

This is more than Naruto just being stubborn.  He’s sure of it, because with someone like Naruto, there’s become a very fine line between all the things Naruto’s allowed to tell him and everything else Naruto purposely chooses not to say.

 

It shouldn’t make a difference out here, not when it’s just the two of them, and while he knows Naruto takes his position seriously, would never deliberately want Naruto to compromise that, this is different.

 

This is the reason why Naruto’s been antsy.

 

“There’s something you’re still not telling me.”

 

Naruto gives himself away when he stills, recovering from the surprise on his face a second too late.  “You really are more sensitive than usual, aren’t you?”

 

“You know my sensitivity has nothing to do with it.  What aren’t you telling me?”

 

“Why are you even assuming I’m not telling you anything?”

 

“Since when did you start keeping things from me you know you’re allowed to say?”

 

“Sasuke, I’m not trying to—”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“I already told you.  It’s not worth the risk.”

 

“The risk versus what?  Being stuck here?”  Sasuke scoffs.  “No, I know there’s something else you’re not telling me.  I’m not stupid, Naruto.  I don’t need my empathy to realise you’re purposely holding something back.  You know me too well to think I’d ever let you get away with trying to pull one over me like that.  You always—”

 

He swallows, glancing at the red holster bag sitting on the floor, sagged against the wall, beneath the small section of the safety rail lining the interior of the ship.  “You always say people shouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions about me just because I have life magic, that people shouldn’t always assume my empathy makes me…

 

“So, if you still believe that, Naruto, if you really see me as more than just my magic, as more than just my empathy, why should what’s happening now be any different?”

 

Naruto closes his eyes, sits back in his chair, both hands covering his knees.  It looks like he’s going to deny it, but then he sighs, opening his eyes, sitting back up, turning to face Sasuke with an almost grim sort of apprehension.

 

“…all right,” he says low, then a little louder, “all right.  Last check-in, Itachi said—Itachi confirmed that another ship landed here.  About five hours ago.  Not too far away from that facility he and Juugo found.”

 

“How big?”

 

“Bigger than ours.  Not a carrier or anything, but enough to hold twenty or so people.  Maybe thirty.  Probably armed, too.  Itachi’s still scoping the ship.  He’s going to wait it out.”

 

“And you’re just telling me this now?”

 

“Well, when was I supposed to bring it up?”  Naruto gives a careless shrug.  “You already have enough to deal with, don’t you?  And the fact you know now, that still hasn’t changed anything about the situation.”

 

“…Itachi and Juugo, do they recognise the ship?”

 

“They’re okay, if that’s the question you’re trying not to ask.  Like I said, Itachi hasn’t decided when or how he’s going to infiltrate yet.  Although if anyone can handle themselves out here, it’s him.  Plus, he’s got Juugo.  And Juugo’s like, really big and tall…and angry.  Because he can go into berserk mode.  The kind of guy you really don’t want to mess with when he’s on a rampage, so it’s good he’s on our side.

 

“They’re just doing surveillance for now.  But whoever those other guys are, they came here looking for something.”

 

“Or someone.”

 

“Yeah, like us.  With the way our luck keeps going, I don’t doubt it.”

 

“Meaning they probably came prepared to find magic users like us.  And knowing that, shouldn’t it be even more incentive for you to stay here, while I—”

 

“—stay with me because Itachi said not to split up?  Yeah, definitely.  Let’s do that.  We’re going to do that.  Because I know I already said we’re staying together.”

 

“You’re not even listening.  You won’t even hear me out.  What’s the point of—”

 

“And since there’s only one comm between us,” Naruto continues, as if Sasuke hadn’t spoken, “even if I did let you go, I still wouldn’t be able to hear you.  Same difference, right?”

 

Never before has Sasuke had to resist so strongly the urge to deck Naruto.

 

There’s no point to keep going with this senseless back and forth, because he does understand why Naruto’s reasoning makes sense, as much as he doesn’t want to agree.  It’s just frustrating having to sit here, not being able to do much of anything, trying not to dwell on how long they may be stuck on Barrah.

 

And now that he knows they’re no longer alone, he doesn’t—

 

“If those people out there really are looking for us, Naruto, we don’t have a choice.”

 

 “Oh, you have a choice—believe me, there’s always a choice.  And right now, it’s the one that’s already been made for you.”

 

Sasuke draws back with a stilted surprise, caught between a laugh and a scoff, not a little incredulous, because even he can’t believe that kind of shit actually came from Naruto’s mouth.  “Like hell I have a choice.  That’s not a choice.  That’s you being—”

 

“Nothing, Sasuke.  That’s not me being anything.  I’m the one responsible for you, _period_.  You don’t get to fight me on this one.  Not this time.  You already know the deal out here in situations like this, so I don’t need to remind you how this is going to play out.”

 

“Don’t patronise me, Naruto.  I know what the situation is.  Just because Itachi’s not here, doesn’t mean you get to let it go to your—”

 

“We’re not alone anymore, and without a way off this place any time soon, trapped in the middle of open terrain, we’re at a pretty damn big disadvantage here, and I’m starting to think you really don’t understand how serious that is.”

 

Sasuke clenches his jaw, refrains from the sharp retort on the tip of his tongue.  In extenuating circumstances like this, he knows he’s supposed to defer to Naruto.  The times he’s been told to always listen to Naruto, he can’t even begin to count, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to trip over himself to blindly follow whatever Naruto says, not when he knows he can actually do something to change their situation.

 

“I can fix the ship.  I know I can get it working again.”

 

“We can find another way.  Because if you pass out, don’t count on me hauling your bony ass anywhere.  You’re going to end up pushing yourself too hard, and then I’m going to be the one taking the blame for it, because I’m the one who’s supposed to—”

 

“I know my own limitations.”

 

“No, Sasuke.  You don’t.  You really don’t, because you push yourself without thinking.”  With a disapproving scoff, Naruto makes a flippant gesture towards Sasuke wrapped in Itachi’s jacket, huddled on the chair.  “I mean, look at you.  It’s not just your empathy or your magic—it’s you.  Whatever’s been going on, all I know is that it keeps getting worse, and I don’t know how to make it better, but you still want to go ahead and do something you’ve never even tried before.

 

“Even though you have elemental magic, you still like to pull on your life force.  And you know what that does to you.  You know how dangerous that is for you, especially when you’re already so bad off, so the last thing we need is you trying to make yourself an easy target.”

 

“But you push yourself, too, Naruto.  You always—”

 

“No, I used to.  But the difference now is I know what I can and can’t do.  And you don’t have that.  You haven’t been trained for this sort of thing.  You don’t have the experience to—”

 

“You keep saying that as if it’s something I don’t already know.”

 

“Because you keep acting like you can just go off on your own and do whatever you want.  But you know you can’t do that.  And you know why.  All those safeguards are there for a reason, and at the end of the day, you not being able to do certain things, it’s just something you’re going to have to bear with.

 

“So, yeah, I know it’s a pretty messed up place for you to be in, no matter how you look at it, but if you really want to get into it right now, let’s go ahead and call it what it is.  Let’s throw it all out there.  Because it’s not me people are usually after.  It’s you.  So unless you want me to—”

 

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Naruto.”

 

“You always say that.  You never want to have this conversation with me.  You never want to—”

 

“I don’t want to hear it.”

 

“You can’t just keep—”

 

“ _Drop it_.”

 

He can’t stand this side of Naruto, the Naruto who refuses to budge, refusing to see past his own irritating, complacent concern, so quick to throw those obvious limitations in his face every damn time they get into this kind of argument.

 

Whenever this topic comes up, it’s non-negotiable with his parents and his brother, even with Kushina and Minato to a certain extent, because he knows they’re right, but with Naruto, as incredibly stubborn as they both are, it always seems worse having to accept hearing it from Naruto, being reminded how much having life magic stands them apart. 

 

So easily could it have been Naruto instead of him.  So easily their roles could have been reversed.

 

If he told the world about Kyuubi now, just one little whisper, a word or two heard by the wrong person is all it would take.  And yet even then, he already knows, unlike having life magic, no one would presume having Kyuubi would make Naruto inherently _weak_.

 

It’s not so much that he worries about how other people see him, but how Naruto sees him, he _needs_ for that not to change, for Naruto to continue seeing him as more than just someone he feels obligated to protect.

 

 “You know what?  Fine.  Whatever, Sasuke.  You’re still not healing like you should.  And you depend too much on your life magic.  You never should have used it like that in the first place.”

 

“Don’t you dare give me that crap, Uzumaki Naruto.  You would’ve died if I hadn’t used my life magic to keep you alive, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

 

“That was different.”  Blue eyes narrow, take on a hard glint, darken when Naruto tilts up his chin.  “It won’t happen again.”

 

“Yes, it will.  And it’s going to happen because you won’t always be able to stop it.  Of all the things you like to promise me, Naruto, you can’t promise me that—you can _never_ promise me that, so don’t just sit there and tell me that it’s okay for you to pull stupid shit all the time, putting your life at risk for me, but I’m simply expected to watch and let it happen.

 

“You don’t have to look after me all the time anymore.  I can handle myself now.  I’m not like I used to be, so don’t toss me aside like I’m too weak to even—”

“Nobody’s tossing you aside.  We’re trying to _protect_ you.  There’s a lot more crap going down out there than even you realise, and we’re the ones trying to make sure nothing bad happens to you, so stop acting like everything that’s done for your sake is just out of some kind of inconvenience!  This isn’t about you being weak, Sasuke!  It’s more than just you feeling sorry for yourself!”

 

“Stop trying to tell me how I feel!  Stop pretending you could even know, because the last thing I’m feeling is sorry for myself, you self-righteous jackass!  It’s not me I’m worried about—I’m worried about you—I’m worried something’s going to happen to you again, something else Kyuubi can’t even save you from, something that’s going to end up taking you away from me because I won’t be able to make it to you in time!”

 

Sasuke turns away from the surprise on Naruto’s face, shuts his eyes from a fleeting confusion giving way to a far too open display of concern.  His fingers dig into the ribbed cuffs of his jacket sleeves, curled into his palms pressed hard against his thighs.

 

“Sasuke, you…”

 

He knows he can’t expect to be told every little thing, but with how eager everyone is to keep him in the dark, out of concern thinks it better if there’s that much more he doesn’t have to know or face on his own, no one seems to understand why it’s frustrating when he’s denied every time he tries to help.

 

No, he doesn’t have the same training or the same kinds of experiences as Naruto, because he doesn’t exactly have free rein even inside his established bubble.  He can’t help that.  And no, he doesn’t rank anywhere near his brother’s class in terms of magic, but being a life user doesn’t suddenly undermine everything else he’s managed to accomplish.

 

It doesn’t mean he’s useless.

 

He’s not.

 

“…if you’re the one always protecting me, Naruto, who’s the one protecting you?”

 

He holds on to the cuffs of his sleeves, tries not to think of Itachi so far away, opens his eyes and turns to Naruto, looking to him trying to find something he doesn’t know.

 

But Naruto falters beneath his gaze, breathes in slowly, gives into a heavy sigh.  Hunched forward, he bows his head, arms slung loose over his lap, hands clasped in front of him, blond hair shadowing his eyes from view.

 

Naruto likes to accuse him of not getting it, and maybe he doesn’t, but what Naruto fails to understand is that, aside from his parents and Itachi, aside from Kushina and Minato, Naruto is really all he has.  He’s one of the very few people he’s always been able to trust in this world, the same person who always tries too hard to put him first, yet the same person who’s always so willing to leave him behind.

 

From the very beginning when his empathy first appeared, the only person aside from Itachi it never hurt to be around, something he can’t even say about his own parents, because Naruto’s always been there.  Naruto’s always been safe.

 

And he can’t lose that.

 

Sasuke can’t lose him.

 

There’s a slight shaking from Naruto’s shoulders, a low chuckle barely a laugh that reaches Sasuke’s ears, and Naruto looks up, raising his head without looking at Sasuke.  “You’re doing it again.”

 

Sasuke turns away, facing the viewscreen.  “Doing what?”

 

“Using your empathy like that.”  Naruto gives one of those strange half smiles Sasuke catches from the corner of his eye.  “You must be really bad off, because you’re not even touching me, and it’s still coming across pretty strong.”

 

Sasuke hadn’t realised what he was doing, either, not deliberately, anyway, but now that it’s already been brought to Naruto’s attention, he won’t bother trying to deny it.

 

The way he at times subconsciously reacts to Naruto with his magic, more often than not, as a life user, he’s been predisposed to act on his life magic through his empathy.

 

It may even be fair to say it’s something he does all the time, although normally having a much more diminished effect, simply because of the way his empathy works.  It’s just something most magic users wouldn’t be able to sense.

 

Naruto’s never been like most magic users, though.

 

“…I’m not doing it on purpose.”

 

“That’s not what I said.”

 

Sasuke turns his gaze towards Naruto, not quite meeting his eyes.

 

“I didn’t even think you were,” Naruto says.  “But you haven’t been this bad around me in years.  Not since the first time Kyuubi almost—well, uh, I know you already said being here’s really been messing with you.  I can see what it’s doing to you.  I can feel it.  I just…”

 

“It’s just us.”

 

“…me and you, yeah.  I know.”

 

Naruto may not have life magic, but even with all the differences growing between them, there are still some things about him Naruto understands in ways not even Itachi can.

 

“You’re still doing it.”

Sasuke relaxes his fingers, letting go of the cuffs of his jacket sleeves.  “Enough to affect you?”

 

“Nah, I don’t think it’ll ever get to that point.  I’m only saying it’s a little easier to sense than normal, I guess.  It’s just weird because it doesn’t even have to show on your face when you’re doing it, you know.  Nothing about you has to change.  You can be in a good mood, or pissed as hell.  Even when you’re sleeping, you still—”

 

Both hands slap the outside of his legs, and Naruto sits up with a small laugh.  “But that doesn’t matter.  I already told you not to worry about me, didn’t I?”

 

He goes for another one of those reassuring smiles, the kind not so long ago Sasuke used to get caught up in, used to so readily want to believe in.  These days, he knows better than to fall for Naruto’s quiet promises, knows there are times Naruto feels helpless, too.

 

He’s never placed Naruto on a pedestal, not like he did and still somewhat does with Itachi, but he’s come to depend on Naruto for a lot of things, too many things he’s neither ready nor willing to admit, because if it weren’t for Naruto, if he didn’t grow up with Naruto beside him, Sasuke can’t help but think he truly would’ve been alone.

 

“…what do you plan on doing, then, if we still can’t get the engines back online?”

 

“Let me worry about it.”

 

After that far too prolonged moment of seemingly endless soul-searching he never wants to be put through again, Sasuke just _stares_.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re not going to do that to me, Naruto.  Whatever’s going on, I’m already involved, so I’m not letting you dismiss me like you’re afraid to hurt the delicate sensibilities I don’t have.”

 

“When did I ever say you had deli—”  Naruto huffs with a drawn out exhale, dragging a hand through his hair, fingers careful not to jostle the goggles still on top of his head.  “That’s not what I meant, but okay.  Here’s the deal.

 

“Since Itachi’s just watching them for now, the plan is to wait.  We’ll do what we can with the ship here.  Scheduled check-in time’s in another half hour, but Itachi’s supposed to make a final decision by sunset.”

 

“That’s only a couple hours away.  And we’re going to have to leave before that deadline hits.”

 

“…yeah.”

 

“Do we know why they’re after us?”

 

“Itachi thinks it’s because of him.  He wasn’t exactly upfront about it, but he was kind of implying it, I think.  Whatever he’s not telling, I already know I won’t be able to get it out of him.

 

“I’ll bet that’s the real reason he split us up, though,” Naruto says, “and made me and you stay close to the ship.  Which really means I can’t let them find you.”

 

Whether it’s because he’s Itachi’s apparent weakness, or because he’s the apparent cause as to why they even ended up stranded on Barrah, Sasuke doesn’t ask Naruto to clarify.  “Did he at least tell you how he knew?”

 

“Nothing outright.  He just didn’t seem too surprised.  Compared to how he usually is, I mean.”

 

“What about us?”

 

 “Even without the whole life magic thing, you’re still Uchiha Itachi’s brother.”

 

“You’re still Namikaze Minato’s son.”

 

“We both know there’re a lot more people out there interested in you than me.  Because if they’re not after Itachi, there’s still a pretty good chance they’re after you.  Why anyone would be after me, well—I guess in this case, that I’m not so sure about, but still.”

 

Sasuke sends him a look.

 

Naruto stares right back.  “You really want to get into this again?”

 

He doesn’t, but it’s Naruto who looks away first.

 

“Just…just work with me here, all right.  Earlier, when I said you look like total shit walking, honestly, that was already putting it a little too nicely.”

 

Sasuke flicks him on the arm.

 

“Seriously, though, Sasuke, I don’t know what’s going to happen.  But whatever it takes to get us out of here, to get you out of here safely, I’m going to do it.  And it really, really wouldn’t hurt if you could just stop trying to make yourself an easy target.  Can we at least agree on that?”

 

For the second time, Sasuke ignores the easy target comment, but he doesn’t agree to anything.  “Are you going back down there?”

 

“There’s still some time left before we have to start packing up, so, yeah.  Might as well keep going.”

 

“Naruto…”

 

“If it doesn’t work this time, we’ll head back to the cave.  Wait it out, hopefully regroup with Itachi and Juugo, assuming they can come to us.  Situation so far doesn’t look good, but we’ll just have to go from there and run with it.”

 

Naruto tries to smile again, exhaustion finally catching up to him with an almost defeated looking smile that ages him, face bare without his usual confidence Sasuke’s come to rely on, dark circles beneath eyes normally bright dimmed by a dull sheen.

 

For him to look so subdued, somehow, it seems wrong, all the more jarring seeing that kind of resignation from someone like Naruto, but the only thing he knows how to do is—

 

Sasuke looks up as Naruto begins to stand.  “You’re going down there now?”

 

“No, toilet.  I’ll be back.”

 

Naruto gives an absent wave from behind, and Sasuke watches, waiting until Naruto’s out of sight to turn back around.

 

The ship’s not that big, but the bathroom’s all the way on the other side, so that gives him about three minutes before Naruto gets back.  Plenty of time to think things through, but as soon as he does this, Naruto’s going to sense it.

 

He glances down at his hands, palms up, flexing his fingers.

 

That spark he felt earlier, from touching the panel, it was a thought he put away for later, but it’s an idea he’s deciding to run with now, and this time without running it by Naruto, because despite the undue concern about overexerting himself, it won’t mean anything if they can’t even get off Barrah.

 

He’s never thought of his life force this way before, but it makes sense.  The human body essentially runs on some form of electricity, anyway.  It’s its own variety of machine.  The life force in a living being is a form of natural energy, and it’s with his life magic he’s able to harness that.

 

Not just as a conduit, but as an actual working power source, an energy source, channelling his life force like a more refined version of the concentrated lightning technique he’s seen Kakashi use.  It’ll require a lot more finesse, but it’s the same principle.  It shouldn’t be that difficult. 

 

If the fuel cell batteries aren’t holding a charge long enough for the engines to turn over, being drained that quickly, presumably, what the batteries really need is a jumpstart.  And since they don’t happen to have any other external power source lying around, and they aren’t in a position to take the ship apart, in theory, using his life magic should be enough of a power boost to get the batteries going long enough to help the engines come back online.

 

Raising the ship, however, he could use earth magic. 

 

It’s not one of his better elements, like shadow, fire, or even lightning, but manipulating any naturally occurring metal from the ground, that’s still a subset of earth magic.  And since the ship is composed of enough of it, manipulating that metal in order to lift it seems doable enough.

 

Again, in theory, this should work.  There’s no reason it shouldn’t, really.  Admittedly, most of his impromptu ideas tend not to go according to plan, although back when they were kids, Naruto used to say it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, and since they’re pretty pressed for options at this point, potentially at the mercy of whoever may be after them, he doesn’t need to ask permission in a situation where he has no choice.

 

He doubts it’ll be enough to actually kill him, never mind the possibility that Naruto may take it upon himself to finish the job, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take, if it’s enough to give them better odds, if it’s enough that he’s able to do something to help keep Naruto and Itachi and Juugo safe.

 

The least he can do is try to hold off Itachi’s disappointment for another day.

 

Hopefully, he won’t overdo it.

 

Hopefully.

 

It’s not his healing magic, but if he thinks of it in terms of bringing an inanimate object to life, feels out the metal and circuitry with his elemental magic, as long as he provides supplementary power without overloading the system, that should be enough.

 

He spares a quick glance behind him from over his shoulder, sensing Naruto making his way back from the other side of the ship.

 

Carefully, slowly, he places both hands on the panel, and there it is again, that spark, that connection.

 

He closes his eyes.

  
And he _breathes._


	6. Dirty Harry VI: El Mañana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for dubious consent after the first flashback. Despite good intentions, Naruto does a still commonly accepted trope that adversely affects Sasuke.

He can’t keep waiting like this.

 

He can’t.

 

He won’t.

 

It’s already been too many hours, too many minutes, feels like he’s been counting since forever, seconds too long rolled into the span of more than a day.

 

He knew it.  Right before the sudden surge of power from the ship, as if he could feel the colour draining from his face, as soon as he felt that burst of magic from Sasuke, before the ship even began to move, he just knew Sasuke had done something _stupid_.

 

There was this horrible, sinking feeling, from the bottom of his stomach jumped straight up to his chest, his voice stuck in the back of his throat, and suddenly came this low rumble beneath him, and then the entire ship just started moving, the ship’s annoying voice interface relaying all the system readings in progress, seemingly so much louder that damn annoying, overly polite voice trying to drown out him shouting Sasuke’s name, as he broke into a sprint toward the control room, running faster trying to bring himself closer to the end of the corridor.

 

The ship began to stagger mid-air, pitched too far back from the rear, each of the engines one by one echoing loudly with a booming groan.  Suddenly, the ship was heaved forward, its level overcorrected with too much shift displaced to the bow, as it was shakily lowered down, landing the short distance back on uneven ground with a near resounding bang.

 

Cursing, he pushed off from the wall he’d been smashed into, nearly tripped pushing off from the emergency rails he’d been holding on to, as he took a skid through the threshold of the control room, where he found Sasuke standing by the console, Sasuke with his hands resting on the panel just standing there, not moving—but then he turned to Naruto, slowly looked to him with wide eyes glazed over an eerie white, and Naruto stared in horror, as Sasuke’s face grew even paler, read from Sasuke’s lips a near silent whisper, the first two syllables of his name broken off into too soft and shallow breaths.

 

He could barely hear the sound of his own voice, through all the noise suddenly stopped around him, everything suddenly so still, barely heard himself whisper Sasuke’s name, in that moment held static no more than mere seconds between them, as the white began to dim from Sasuke’s eyes, because Naruto’s heart had already dropped.

 

His heart had just dropped.

 

And then Sasuke was falling, at the same time Naruto was running toward him, but he wasn’t able to get there fast enough, even with his magic failed to make it in time to catch Sasuke, or do anything to cushion Sasuke’s fall, as he watched Sasuke’s head bounce off the armrest, crying out again Sasuke’s name at that loud, sickening crack, but when Naruto finally did reach him, Sasuke was already collapsed on the floor.

 

He laid Sasuke on his side, placing him in the recovery position, while doing a quick check for any external injuries.  Thankfully, Sasuke wasn’t bleeding or anything, just some mild bruising on the side of his head.  Not counting the hit Sasuke took on the way down, because the bio-scanner hadn’t picked up on any major head trauma, it looked like Sasuke had just passed out from magical exhaustion, yet even something that commonplace was especially dangerous for Sasuke.

 

If he hadn’t recognised the signs, he wouldn’t have known how closely he’d have to listen for a faint pulse, or where to even find it, because Sasuke wasn’t moving at all.  For a good two minutes, he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just imagining Sasuke’s heartbeat, when even the bio-scanner wasn’t able to pick up a consistent reading.

 

Between the time Sasuke started raising the ship and the time Naruto made it back to the control room, not that much time had actually passed.  It wasn’t even five minutes since he’d left to go to the bathroom, but after making sure Sasuke was stable, at least for the time being, he made contact with Itachi, less than twenty minutes from their scheduled check-in, and gave him a rundown on the situation.

 

_“…definitely a concussion, but I’m more worried about the exhaustion part.  I know he’s not going to wake up until his body can heal itself, but with the way his magic’s been lately, who knows how long that’ll take.”_

_“Uzumaki.”_

_“Sir?”_

_“I explicitly told you Sasuke was not allowed to use his magic.”_

_  
“Yes, sir.”_

 

There really wasn’t much more he could say.  Before he even tapped open the channel on his comm, he’d already been expecting some kind of reprimand, because Itachi was still his CO; his CO had given him an order, and he hadn’t followed through.  Being the one with experience in these kinds of situations, regardless of Sasuke’s actions, ultimately, he was still going to be held accountable.

 

And he got it.  They weren’t home.  They weren’t back at the base, weren’t anywhere near Nagi.  They were stranded on some wasteland, with the odds already stacked against them, and they weren’t alone anymore.

 

The only people who knew their location were probably the very same people who’d followed them to Barrah, more likely than not armed mercenaries definitely out to get them, and there was also the very real possibility of a second group heading his and Sasuke’s way.

 

Itachi had already gotten on him earlier, for helping Sasuke into that crawlspace back at the prison, not just for letting Sasuke go somewhere alone, especially such a small, enclosed area, but for letting Sasuke touch something that could’ve messed with his magic again, just like what happened with Juugo’s collar.

 

At the same time, it wasn’t like he was going to sit there holding Sasuke’s hand, waiting for Sasuke to do something wrong, because leaving to go use the toilet shouldn’t also mean having to worry about leaving Sasuke on his own.

 

They’d had a talk.  They were talking about it.  And even though it took a lot of frustration to finally get there, he honestly thought he’d gotten through to Sasuke, that Sasuke was actually listening to him, and wouldn’t actually try to pull something that incredibly stupid.

 

But even putting aside the fact Itachi had already told Sasuke not to use his magic, when Sasuke suggested raising the ship, after Naruto told him no the first time, that should’ve been enough.

 

Other than that short reprimand, though, Itachi hadn’t raised his voice at him or anything, hadn’t tried to make him feel even worse about the situation, because that was just something Itachi would never do.  Itachi was calm about it, that same as usual, while listening to him explain what happened.  He hadn’t offered much in the way of guidance, but without hesitation told Naruto it was his call to make, since Naruto had a better grasp of Sasuke’s condition, being the one there with Sasuke.

 

It was also a sign of how much someone like Itachi really did trust him, further supporting Naruto’s early impression that there was a lot more behind why Itachi wanted to split them up in the first place, and whatever it was that apparently had Itachi all but convinced that unmarked ship came looking for him.

 

Which meant he had two choices:

 

Either he could wait it out in the ship, wait for Sasuke to hopefully wake up on his own, while hoping there wasn’t another one of those unmarked ships that landed nearby carrying more potential unfriendlies looking to find them, because with Sasuke in that state, having such a low body temperature after exhausting almost all of his life force, aside from monitoring his pulse, the only thing Naruto could do was try to keep him warm.

 

Or he could initiate a full diagnostic run on the ship, along with a full DPR-check, one that would have most of systems going offline and coming back online at different times, which translated into minimal life support functions and no controlled HVAC system features; although once it started, it was also a slow process he couldn’t stop unless he did a backdoor shut down of all the systems, and that’d be without knowing whether whatever Sasuke did would ensure the ship would be able to come back online at all.

 

Already too close to sunset, he had to make a decision quick. 

 

So, he bundled Sasuke as best he could, slipped his own jacket on top of Itachi’s jacket Sasuke was already wearing.  He pulled the hood over Sasuke’s head to protect him from the wind that had just started to pick up, adjusted it to make sure it wouldn’t fall off.  Lifting Sasuke on his back, he started making his way to the caves before it got too dark.

 

Besides having to deal with low visibility and the freezing cold, at night was also when the dunemites seemingly started to come out in droves, and he couldn’t risk running into one, or whatever else decided to come out after dark.  Although they weren’t as bad as sand whales (which was about the only thing Barrah had left going for it at this point), his encounter with one of those overgrown scorpions was more than enough.

 

Those suckers weren’t just nasty.  They were huge, averaging between one and two stories as adults, not really that much of a step down from sand whales, actually, with how fast they could still move at that size, and with the ship already being so close to a dunemite nest, having to carry Sasuke across open desert terrain for a couple hours put him at a sizeable disadvantage if even one of those things decided to follow him; he could probably take them out on his own, but he wouldn’t even stand a chance trying to outpace them while he was carrying Sasuke.

 

The dunemites stayed away from the caves for some reason, though.  At least there, they’d be one less thing he’d have to worry about.  As it was, he was willing to take what he could get.

 

Still, deciding to move Sasuke was risky, but with Itachi and Juugo still keeping surveillance, and with Sasuke not being in any shape to travel the distance to the quickest rendezvous point, he figured it’d be even riskier not taking a gamble having a full diagnostic run on the ship; it’d take at least a day, depending on how much there was to fix, but, as long everything turned out good-to-go, at least it’d give them a more concrete exit plan.

 

All things considered, he still thinks the cave was his best bet, so he doesn’t regret bringing Sasuke here.  The only thing is, Sasuke still isn’t responding to him, isn’t even responding to Kyuubi.

 

He’s already lowered his shields a little, not too much, only enough, trying to reach out to Sasuke that way.  With Sasuke’s empathy, even unconscious he’ll respond to the people around him, to their magic, to their emotions, because that’s how he’s able to pick up on their intentions, how he intuitively knows if something’s wrong, and he’s always, always been responsive to Naruto—except Sasuke still hasn’t responded to anything.  Since he collapsed back at the ship, he still hasn’t moved.

 

Kyuubi already told him Sasuke was fine, actually called Sasuke by his name—not Sachi or Shakti—told Naruto he only needed to keep Sasuke warm and give him time to rest, but that’s not something Naruto feels like leaving to chance.

 

For the seemingly hundredth time, he checks for Sasuke’s pulse again, takes too long to find a single beat after checking all the places he’s already gone back to check before.

 

Carefully, he begins to lift Sasuke up a little, one arm already around Sasuke’s waist, his other hand pushing aside dark hair fallen against skin stark white, brushing against Sasuke’s cheek, as he raises Sasuke higher, moving his hand beneath Sasuke’s head for support, tilting his face closer towards him.

 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he doesn’t know what else to do, how else he can get Sasuke to wake up, because he can’t keep waiting like this—even if it’s a shot in the dark that probably has no chance in hell, it’s all he’s got for now, so he lowers his head, ignores the warning growl from Kyuubi in the back of his mind, tries not to focus on the bluish tint to Sasuke’s lips as he slowly presses his own against them.

 

And he waits.

 

Sasuke’s lips still unmoving, cold beneath the touch of his own, Naruto waits.

 

As the seconds continue to pass, he continues to count them, closes his eyes because Sasuke’s lying there so still, feels so lifeless in his arms, as more seconds too many begin to slip by, as he waits and he waits—and then he feels it, this funny little sensation from within his chest, leaving a slight tingle across his lips, a pull at his life force he’s only felt once before, but it’s a gentle tug that doesn’t hurt, when he opens his eyes a pleasant sort of lightness that becomes a calming presence in the back of his mind, soothing an agitated Kyuubi, fading away a low snarl.

 

And while he’s watching, still waiting, light his lips still pressed over Sasuke’s own, he continues to hold Sasuke close, handheld firm beneath Sasuke’s head at the soft gasp below him when Sasuke comes to, eyes shot wide open, already white.

 

Naruto doesn’t pull away, but neither does Sasuke try to push him off, doesn’t try to move, in his arms lies absolutely still, and Naruto begins to waver at the sudden sense of panic—not from him, not from Kyuubi ( _Because of you_ , comes Kyuubi’s hiss), and that alone is enough to unnerve him, because being able to feel Sasuke’s emotions this strongly through his own empathy, he’s usually not able to do that, shouldn’t be able to feel Sasuke’s emotions at all, and by the time he’s able to fully register the panic is coming from Sasuke, actual _fear_ , before he can pull away, he’s already recoiling from the fist that collides with his face, head jerked to the side, as Sasuke quickly pushes out of his arms.

 

Still reeling, a little stunned Sasuke had actually hit him, he blinks, takes a moment to catch his breath, doesn’t look away from the glare of dark eyes watching him, rubbing his knuckles against his face, running his tongue along the left side of his mouth, where he bit the inside of his other cheek.

 

He almost forgot how hard Sasuke could hit, but it’s definitely not the hardest Sasuke’s ever come at him.  Compared to what he knows Sasuke’s capable of, if Sasuke wasn’t so clearly exhausted, a hit like that probably would’ve dislocated his jaw, not to mention hurt like hell.

 

He’s more surprised Sasuke had enough energy left to hit him, rather than the lack of real force behind it, although it’s a given why Kyuubi isn’t offering to heal him.

 

There’s another low snarl in the back of his mind, a flare of irritation to let him know how pleased Kyuubi isn’t about what he just tried to do, but he shakes it off, a little more preoccupied with his own growing irritation than Kyuubi’s disapproval.

 

He knows Kyuubi gets especially touchy when it comes to anything having to do with Sasuke’s life magic, but Kyuubi can be angry at him all he wants.  So what if he couldn’t take Kyuubi’s word this time that Sasuke was going to be fine.  He wasn’t going to rely on a hunch, even Kyuubi’s, not when Sasuke too many times already had stopped breathing.

 

 _I warned you about tainting Shakti’s magic,_ Boy _.  Do not meddle in these affairs of which you have no knowledge._

 

Yeah, he’s going to ignore that, too.

 

Same goes for Sasuke.

 

From the corner of his eye, Naruto catches the flames from the small fire erupt brighter, narrowed into a stream fairly contained, illuminating the near entirety of the cave rising higher, tickling the ceiling burning hues of red overrun by blue—until he reaches out with his magic, barely moves, with a simple flick of his wrist towards him drawing air away from the flames, as he wills the fire back down.  Fingers spread, palm facing down, he dispels his magic to the floor, closing his hand as he flexes his jaw, unmoved by Sasuke’s feeble glare.

 

“…guess you think I deserved that hit, huh.”

 

“You asshole,” Sasuke sneers.  “What the hell do you think you were doing?”

 

“For a second there, I didn’t think it’d actually work.”

 

“Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again, Naruto.  Don’t you ever try to make me do something like that again.  You had no right to do that to me.”

 

Naruto holds his stare, already resolved, watching as Sasuke swallows, still pale surrounded by the blankets fallen around him, breathing too hard, taking in too much air at once.

 

With that kind of close contact, Sasuke’s healing hits a lot faster, and since it’s worked before, if Sasuke could breathe life into him, it’s not that much of a stretch to think Sasuke would be able to use someone else’s life force to heal himself.

 

“You stopped breathing.”

 

“That doesn’t make it okay to try to manipulate my magic like that.  You don’t get to do that to me—of all people, Naruto, you’re not supposed to do that to me.”

 

“You stopped breathing,” Naruto says again, since basic biology seems to have somehow slipped Sasuke’s mind.  “Not for the first time, you stopped breathing.  And for ten minutes— _ten minutes_ , Sasuke, I couldn’t find a pulse.  You weren’t moving.  You weren’t responding to anything.  Not me.  Not Kyuubi.  _Nothing_.  For ten minutes, I sat there and counted.  Every time you stopped breathing, I sat there and—”

 

“I don’t care.  You shouldn’t have done it.”

 

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to freak out if you think I’m not breathing, but when it’s the other way around—no, for me, the guy who doesn’t even have life magic, suddenly, that’s not okay.”

 

“I almost killed you before.”

 

“And I’m going to tell you the same thing I did then.  You didn’t.  You weren’t even close that time, and this time isn’t any different.”

 

“You’re missing the point.”

 

“What point, Sasuke?  You’re not dead.  There’s no other point that matters.”

 

Knowing how Sasuke feels about that part of his life magic, maybe he shouldn’t have done it, but it still stands that he did.  And if what he did meant finally getting Sasuke to wake up, then let him be in the wrong.  As close as he was to losing Sasuke, he’s not sorry.  And he’d do it again.  There wouldn’t be anything for Sasuke to complain about if he hadn’t kissed him, anyway.

 

“That doesn’t give you the right to—”

 

“You’re right.”  Naruto scoffs, throwing his hands out in the small space between them.  “Of course you’re right.  Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.  Maybe I should’ve just left you for dead, left your body right by that dunemite nest for the taking, and then have to face Itachi knowing I was the one who couldn’t keep you safe like I’m supposed to, tell our parents I’m the one who got you killed if me and Itachi even get out of here alive, but you know what—that’s not what I did, Sasuke.  That’s not what—”

 

“No, you try to make me kill you.”

 

“You weren’t going to kill me.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have had to haul your dying ass all the way back here, if you weren’t so damn set on using your life force trying to power an _entire fucking ship_.  Using up nearly all your life force—your _life force_ , Sasuke.  You know.  The stuff that actually keeps you alive.”

 

“I was fine.  Everything was okay.  I wasn’t going to—”

 

“Stop lying, Sasuke.  You weren’t okay.  You’re still not okay—there is _nothing_ about you almost dying that will ever be okay.”

 

Sasuke starts to sway a little, whatever adrenaline he was running on leaving him, but when Naruto reaches for Sasuke’s arm, reaches out trying to help him, Sasuke shoves away Naruto’s hand, almost falls, almost hits his head against the wall scooting back, trying to keep Naruto at arm’s length.

 

He catches himself with both hands on the blanket covered floor, nearly slips and falls again, as his arms start to buckle, shaking beneath the visible strain it takes to hold himself up, fingers curled into his palms, knuckles  pressing into the ground trying to keep himself steady.  Chest heaving, he leans over to the right, on his side leaning heavily against the wall. 

 

“...stay away from me, Naruto.”

 

He tries to push down the hurt, tries to ignore the sting of those words Sasuke’s never said to him before, doesn’t mean to let it turn into anger, because even within that returns a long-lost sense of helplessness, with Sasuke outright rejecting him, the need to curb his own frustration with himself, from still not being able to fix what’s wrong, from not being able to make it better.

 

Yet as proud as Sasuke is, as upsetting as it to watch him like this, it leaves Naruto teetering between wanting to return the favour from earlier, and forcing Sasuke to accept his help, because at this rate Sasuke really might end up hurting himself worse, but he doesn’t know how to help Sasuke, not if Sasuke won’t even let him try.

 

“Why do you keep doing things like this?  Why can’t you just—”

 

“I wasn’t—”Sasuke starts to cough, shaking his head, still short of breath.  “I did what I had to do.  I would’ve known if I was—”

 

“Shut up, Sasuke!  I don’t care if you have some sort of death wish!  Stop being so damn stupid all the time!  Stop trying to die!”

 

There’s a flash of white across Sasuke’s eyes, as Naruto’s words echoed between them resonate within the cave, a wince not so brief, not so well hidden the pain reflected across Sasuke’s face.

 

Running a hand through his hair, Naruto bites down a curse, grits his teeth fighting back the urge to just yell.  Instead, he focuses on bringing his shields back up even stronger, trying to make sure nothing else can get through.

 

He tries to calm himself, takes a deep breath, then another, slows down to take one more, because he remembers Sasuke’s panic earlier, the actual _fear_ he felt from Sasuke—from _Sasuke_ —and while he doesn’t know what caused it exactly, with Sasuke this exhausted, if he reached a state where he can’t even keep his barriers up, the last thing Naruto wants to do is make it worse.

 

“…you see, Sasuke, this is what I’m talking about.  This is your problem.  Even if you think you’re trying to help, you can’t just make decisions on your own and expect everything to work out.”

 

He can’t read anything else from Sasuke, nothing beyond a blank stare.  With what little energy Sasuke had managed to save up already leaving him, he’s probably using what’s left to keep his emotions in check.

 

“That’s not why I did it.  I couldn’t let you—”

 

“But this isn’t about me.  This is about you, and you doing what Itachi already told you not to do—what I kept telling you not to do.

 

“You always talk about not wanting to be a burden for the rest of your life, but when you do thoughtless crap like this, selfishly putting yourself at risk, making people worry about you—guess what?  It’s too late.  You’re being even more of a burden than you already think you are.

 

“And now, instead of working on the ship, trying to get us out of here, or even making the trip to meet Itachi and Juugo somewhere halfway, I’m stuck here in this cave, wasting time having to look after you.”

 

He’s not trying to be mean, but he’s not going to sugar coat it, either.  He can’t afford to worry about Sasuke’s feelings, especially with the threat of those mercenaries out there, not if Sasuke’s actions make him even more of a liability.

 

That’s why Sasuke needs to hear this.  Needs to keep hearing it until what people keep saying finally sets in, because using his magic is exactly what Sasuke wasn’t supposed to do, exactly what put them in the situation they’re in now.  After so many times telling Sasuke not to, he doesn’t know how else he could’ve made himself any clearer.  Even worse, Sasuke already knows better than to test his limits when his reserves are so low, and yet he still did it, anyway, putting Naruto in that position, so what else was he supposed to do?

 

He knows Kyuubi still isn’t happy about the stunt he pulled with Sasuke’s magic, but against his explanation for it, this time Kyuubi doesn’t have anything to say.

 

“I mean, the way you’re breathing, the way you’re still shaking, you can’t even hold yourself up, and you won’t even let me help you.  Me, Sasuke.”  Twice, Naruto thumps his hand against his chest, then once more.  “ _Me_.”

 

Sasuke shivers, drops his head as more coughs rack his body.

 

“Even with your magic, this isn’t normal for you.  You can’t tell me this is right.”  Naruto makes another reach for Sasuke’s arm, raising it between them, when Sasuke tries to pull away tightening his grip to keep Sasuke from falling, with too much overlap of his fingers, above the cuffs of jacket sleeves his hand too easily wrapped around Sasuke’s wrist unnaturally pale.

 

Sasuke’s always been quicker to burn than tan, but even after all that time spent out in the desert, as hot as it’s gotten on Barrah, it’s like there’s no colour to his skin, almost translucent, startling as the faint glow of his eyes, as his head begins to rise, like something else is moving him, his gaze following slowly, travelling up Naruto’s arm, to Naruto’s shoulder, to Naruto’s face.

 

He starts to lean forward, with his arm still held by Naruto’s hand reaching towards Naruto’s cheek, but the movement’s too careful, somehow stilted yet still too refined, posed like one of those lifelike, traditional dolls, because Sasuke’s watching him with the same kind of vacant stare, the same uncanny kind of glassy eyes, like he’s not even there, and Naruto watches his own reflection disappear, as the faint glow slowly turns into white, bleeding over the darks of Sasuke’s eyes.

 

He quickly pushes down Sasuke’s arm, both hands reached to frame Sasuke’s face, holding him still, trying to get Sasuke to focus on him.  “Please don’t do this to me, Sasuke.  I really need for you not to do this right now.” 

 

Already he can feel it, even without Sasuke touching him, the familiar wisps of a comforting warmth enveloping him, the swelling on his face completely gone, the inside of his cheek as if he hadn’t bitten it, but this isn’t Sasuke using his life magic.  It’s Sasuke’s life magic taking over him.

 

“Come on, let me see your eyes,” he whispers, smoothing his thumb across Sasuke’s cheek.  “I need you to see me, Sasuke.  I need you to look at me, so let me see your eyes, okay.  Let me see you.”

 

But Sasuke’s still not responding.  His breathing again turns shallow, breaths drawn out too slow, and he continues to stare at him unseeing, through voids of white doesn’t even recognise him. 

 

“Come on, Sasuke, you have to stop it.”  Naruto starts to pat Sasuke’s cheek, soft taps that become more desperate, grow faster, his voice rising from a frantic whisper, “Don’t let your magic do this.  You need to stop it already.  Stop it, Sasuke.  Snap out of it!”

 

And it’s still not enough, because he can still feel Sasuke’s magic surrounding him, trying to calm him, reaching out trying to heal him when there’s nothing that needs to be fixed, nothing Sasuke needs to waste his life force on trying to save him from, because Sasuke doesn’t have much of anything left to give.

 

“Now, Sasuke, stop it, now!  I already told you to stop it, so stop it!  Stop it right now—s _top it!_ ”

 

It takes another moment, dragged entirely too long another instance of too many seconds in reality only a few, but the white clouding Sasuke’s eyes begins to fade, darkens into an absent stare that continues to watch Naruto unseeing.

 

And Sasuke blinks.

 

Slowly, his eyes begin to focus, bleary as he begins to come out of a daze, still against the hands holding his face, but then he finally sees Naruto, looks at him with such credulous eyes, those same credulous eyes that have already looked to him so many times before, when Sasuke used to always look for him, after so many of his episodes, all those years ago when it used to be one of the first things he’d do.

 

 “…Naruto?”

 

Naruto drops his hands, with a haggard sigh pulls Sasuke into his arms, palm curved around the back of Sasuke’s head tucked beneath his chin, fingers running through dark hair as he hugs Sasuke close, staring straight ahead at the shadows flickering across the wall, afraid to close his eyes, afraid to let Sasuke go.

 

“Just…just stay with me, okay.”  

 

He breathes in from another trembling sigh, a coarse sense of relief, back and forth starts to rock a little, fumbling to clutch at the material of Sasuke’s jacket, breathes out too shaky an exhale, widens the stance of his knees, making space between his legs to bring Sasuke closer.

 

“…stay with me.”

 

For the first time in a long time, Sasuke doesn’t try to fight him, doesn’t immediately try to push him away.  He lets Naruto hold him, stays quiet, just lies there shivering, curled up against him trying to get warmer, taking in air still too shallow with soft, shuddering breaths.

 

“Here.”  Naruto sniffs and breathes out, swallows, cheek brushing over Sasuke’s hair, as he reaches with one arm for the blankets piled on the floor.  He moves back some, leaned against the hard wall of the cave, as he takes all of Sasuke’s weight against him, creating a makeshift cocoon for Sasuke, adjusting the blankets he draped over him.

 

He’s been keeping the fire going for hours, and yet, even this close, Sasuke isn’t that much warmer from when Naruto first brought him back to the cave.  No matter what he does, as long as he’s been holding Sasuke, he still can’t seem to keep him warm.

 

“You can’t…” he starts to say, but he hates the way his voice comes out so strained, with a forced inhale starts to crack, hates the way it doesn’t even sound like him, trying not to think how Sasuke can still feel so lifeless in his arms.“…you can’t let your magic do that to you, all right.

 

“Not when you’re like this, Sasuke.  You can’t let your magic take you away.”

 

Magical exhaustion’s bad enough on its own.  Even with Kyuubi, he’s learned to be careful not to push himself too far.  And although it’s treatable with the usual for most magic users, with a quick curative spray, staying hydrated and getting rest, magical exhaustion is especially dangerous for Sasuke.

 

The last time Sasuke passed out from magical exhaustion, almost three years ago, it was bad, real bad.  When it escalates to that point, it’s almost like his body completely shuts off, when he goes into this sort of state of suspended animation, so trying to keep track of his vitals, it’s a horrible waiting game that’s pretty much all touch and go.

 

Exhausting his life magic is essentially exhausting his life force, so staying hydrated and getting rest isn’t going to cut it.  On top of that, it’s a lot easier for Sasuke’s empathy to affect him when he’s exhausted, which makes it a lot easier for his life magic to take over; the more sensitive he is, the more his empathy affects him, and the more likely he is to use his life magic, whichever one comes first. 

 

With his elemental magic, that level of exhaustion’s not as likely, not anymore, but when Sasuke was younger, it still led to the same thing.

 

Obviously, it hasn’t killed him yet, but the more exhausted he is, the deeper he’ll go into that suspended state, and that’s the reason why he wasn’t supposed to use his magic—except this is the same stuff Sasuke already knows, that he understands better than anyone else ever could, that everyone shouldn’t have to keep telling him.

 

But Naruto doesn’t have it in him to be angry anymore.

 

Beyond basic medical know-how, what he was taught about standard field first aid, aside from trying to keep Sasuke warm, there wasn’t and still isn’t much else he could do.  Neither of them responds that well to medicine, anyway, even with curative sprays, but where he has Kyuubi, Sasuke can usually take care himself with his life magic, as long as he has the reserves to pull from.

 

When Naruto had left the ship, he pushed himself to maintain a faster pace, trying to cut down on the near four hour trip back to the cave.  Sasuke hadn’t moved once the entire way, all but deadweight carried on his back, and all he could do was listen for the smallest little breath Sasuke would take, against the winds and the sand using his magic to create a barrier around them, counting the seconds far too long in between the faint movements of Sasuke’s chest he kept pressed to him close.

 

If there’s a way to somehow use his own healing ability to make Sasuke better, he doesn’t know.  Kyuubi doesn’t, either.

 

“I’m not you, Sasuke.  I don’t have magic like that.  If something happens to you, I couldn’t just…

 

“Because when you stopped breathing, it wasn’t just one time.  It wasn’t even two or three times.  You stopped breathing so many times—so many times, Sasuke, and I wasn’t sure you’d even…”

 

He sniffs, makes a hasty wipe at both eyes with the back of his hand, wiping from his face a few specks of the sand he still can’t seem to get rid of.  He breathes in through his mouth, again moves to pull Sasuke closer, probably squeezing a little harder than he should, as he rests his cheek on top of Sasuke’s head, tries to reassure himself that Sasuke’s still breathing, that Sasuke’s okay in his arms, that Sasuke’s still _here_.

 

“I tried everything else I could think of, but nothing would wake you up.

 

“…you wouldn’t wake up.”

 

It scared him.  Enough to try what he did to Sasuke’s magic, it really scared him.  Despite what Kyuubi said, it was still taking too long for Sasuke to wake up, and he couldn’t leave him alone without the fear he’d lose Sasuke, every time he’d have to wait for Sasuke to start breathing again.

 

“…I know this wasn’t…I know what you were trying to do, but I’m always going to put you first, Sasuke.  That’s what I’m supposed to do.  That’s what I have to do, because I promised I’d always be there to take care of you.

 

“But I need for you to let me do that.  I need for you to stop doing things like this, putting yourself at risk, not caring about whether you get hurt, even if you’re just trying to help.

 

“There’re already enough people out there who want to hurt you, people who’ve already tried to use you, people who would try to do all kinds of crazy shit to you I’m not even allowed to say, but I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you.  I’m the one who’s not supposed to let anything happen to you.”

 

And if he can’t even do that, if he can’t even keep Sasuke safe…

 

Because that’s how it all started, that day in school Sasuke had his first empathetic attack, after he tapped Sasuke on the shoulder.  He knows Sasuke doesn’t blame him for it.  No one’s ever blamed him for any of it, but when that kind of thing happens as a kid, it doesn’t really go away.

 

Before that, he and Sasuke weren’t exactly friends.  Because of their moms knowing each other, he always knew _of_ Sasuke, but didn’t see much reason to talk to him outside of school.  Being a year apart, they only shared one class together, and Sasuke didn’t even have magic then.

 

When he told his mom and dad he’d felt guilty about Sasuke being in the hospital because of him, they tried to assure him he shouldn’t feel guilty for something that wasn’t his fault, told him he could spend time trying to be Sasuke’s friend instead.  But while he’s pretty sure skipping school to sneak into Sasuke’s hospital room wasn’t what his parents had in mind, he’d wanted to make sure Sasuke was all right, and he trusted the imaginary voice in his head when Kyuubi promised he wouldn’t be able to hurt Sasuke again.

 

After Nurse Mitate caught him and brought him to Iyashi, instead of scolding him or trying to keep him away from Sasuke, Iyashi was the one who actually encouraged Naruto to come back for another visit, just not during the middle of a school day.

 

Iyashi said he had surprisingly strong mental acuity for someone so young, and that for Sasuke’s empathy development, it’d be good for Sasuke to interact with someone closer to his own age; he said it’d be good for Naruto, too, and his parents agreed, since, although empathy development was his speciality, Iyashi was first and foremost a child psychologist, so his parents felt it wouldn’t hurt, could possibly help him with his own trauma because of that day, especially considering the lengths he’d gone just to see Sasuke.

 

The reason why he thought Sasuke’s empathy wasn’t set off around him, Naruto couldn’t exactly tell Iyashi it probably had less to do with him and more to do with Kyuubi, but he still took it as his chance to be Sasuke’s friend.

 

And for a while, Sasuke was actually getting better.

 

That summer, Naruto would visit him three or four days out of the week after school.  The hospital staff would even let him see Sasuke outside normal visiting hours, sometimes on the weekends, too, because Sasuke had to stay in a special ward, had the whole floor to himself, separating him from everyone else.

 

There were a few times he’d bring homework he waited the last minute to do, usually due the very next day, and despite how many times Sasuke would complain about how someone older than him shouldn’t be so needy and careless, he’d still help Naruto, anyway, made a habit of telling Naruto off while carefully looking over Naruto’s answers.

 

_“Shouldn’t you know these things by now, Naruto?  I’m the one who’s younger than you.”_

 

Most of his visits, they’d find ways to pass the time by just talking, trying to get as much into their conversations before curfew, when Naruto had to leave.

 

Those visits Sasuke would smile and listen to him ramble about wanting to be a fighter pilot like his dad, and he’d get just as excited telling him about how Itachi was training to be a fighter pilot, too.  Every time Naruto bragged about all the things his dad had done, Sasuke would try to outdo him by bragging about all the things Itachi could already do better.

 

And he’d listen to all the things Sasuke wanted to be when he grew up, all the things he could’ve been—those days before Sasuke had life magic, before they knew about the laws for life users, one by one all the things they discovered Sasuke wouldn’t be allowed to do.

 

But back then they had all the time in the world to dream about being old enough to try out for the Academy, about one day being able to race each other and chase the stars, while in Sasuke’s hospital room they raced Naruto’s favourite model ships as close to the ceiling as they could get, until they got in trouble for jumping on Sasuke’s bed.

 

In between visits there were days Iyashi would even invite him to sit in on Sasuke’s therapy sessions, as long as Sasuke said it was fine; it was really simple stuff Iyashi wanted Sasuke to try, stuff only little kids would normally be expected to do, but it was to help Sasuke face his emotions, help him think of them as something positive, instead of trying to avoid them completely because of how strongly they made him feel.

 

Sasuke used to get really embarrassed about it at first, on some days more than others, most times not wanting to see Iyashi, sometimes even refusing to go, but then those times he didn’t always mind letting Naruto hold his hand.

 

Not long after that first visit, everyone else started to push them together, too.

 

It wasn’t like Sasuke had anyone else his age who could be around him in the hospital, not without setting off his empathy, and Naruto still can’t say he’s been able to get over that guilt for causing Sasuke’s empathetic attack in the first place, even if Kyuubi told him that wasn’t the case; it still would’ve happened to Sasuke, whether it was Naruto who touched him or not, and the fact it was Naruto and not someone else, that probably worked out for the best.

 

But then somewhere along the way, there just seemed to be this sort of casual expectation that he’d always be there for Sasuke.

 

It was more than them being friends, and not just because he was older, that he was someone Sasuke could look up to, but because Sasuke was completely relaxed around him.  Being around him helped Sasuke open up again.  Sasuke didn’t have to be alone anymore.  And since he was someone Sasuke would come to depend on, the only other person Sasuke said he always felt safe around, it was only natural Naruto would so easily fall into that type of role.

 

Whenever he noticed Sasuke was a little more uncomfortable than usual, especially if there were too many people around, even if they were considered part of Sasuke’s care team, he’d get defensive on Sasuke’s behalf, because even then Sasuke would rather bite down on his tongue than admit his empathy was too much for him to handle, so doing things like that, simply looking after Sasuke, it just became normal.

 

Mostly, his behaviour was passed off as a phase.  Their parents thought it was cute, in the way kids were cute when they played dress-up, drowning in oversized clothes, stumbling over their feet sliding forward to the toes of shoes they kept slipping out of, just to prove to the world they could be adults, too.

 

It seemed even under those circumstances, or maybe even because of them, everyone would say how proud they were of him for being Sasuke’s little protector, for being so dependable at such a young age, for taking on that kind of adult responsibility without having to be told, would smile at him whenever he said he’d always be there to take care of Sasuke and keep him safe.

 

He doubts anybody actually thought he’d take that role so seriously, or that’d he eventually become as determined as he is now when it comes to Sasuke’s wellbeing, but he did.

 

That’s just how it was.  That’s how it came to be.

 

And even if they didn’t end up in the relationship they have now, he’d still feel the same way.  Him having Kyuubi and Sasuke having life magic, there’s already a connection there, but it’s not the only one they have.

 

All the stuff they’ve shared together, everything Sasuke’s helped him through, things only Sasuke understands about him, their friendship might’ve started out from him wanting to make up for landing Sasuke in the hospital, since that’s the reason they got to know each other, but he’s not with Sasuke simply because he feels the need to protect him.

 

He’ll admit it’s started to get in the way sometimes, as they both get older much more than it used to, this deep-seated, almost compulsion to protect Sasuke, because he’s also had to acknowledge Sasuke doesn’t need him in the same ways anymore.

 

But it’s not that he wants Sasuke to think he’s tossing him aside.  There’s a lot more they have to deal with, though, a lot of things Sasuke still doesn’t understand, things Naruto is still learning about after the fact, but protecting Sasuke, that’s just what he’s supposed to do.  It’s what he has to do, and everyone else expects him to, so why can’t Sasuke just…

 

“…if something happens to you or Itachi,” Sasuke whispers, voice almost too low to hear, and Naruto opens his eyes, raising his head to peer down at Sasuke, “if one of you gets hurt, do you really expect me to just accept that?”

 

Naruto sighs, tilting his head back against the wall, gently rubbing Sasuke’s neck.  “I keep telling you.  It’s not the same.”

 

“But how is that fair?  How is it that you get to be stupid and throw your life on the line for me, for anyone else to put themselves in harm’s way for my sake, but I’m supposed to do nothing?  How is any of that fair?” 

 

“You still don’t get it.”

 

“What’s there to get?  If my life magic is all I’ll ever be good for, if that’s what I have to look forward to, what good is being a life user, if I can’t even use my magic to keep the few people close to me safe?”

 

It’s the type of question where Sasuke isn’t really expecting an answer, but when Sasuke gets like this, not even angry, just speaks with this quiet sort of detachment, asking these kinds of things, Naruto doesn’t always make the attempt to try because he doesn’t always have the answers he wants to give.

 

“…tell me how my life is any more important than yours.  Explain that to me, Naruto, because that’s the one thing I still don’t understand.”

 

“Sasuke, that’s not—”

 

“Isn’t it, though?  Isn’t that what you already think?  Isn’t that what everybody thinks?  That I can’t do anything on my own, that I’m incapable of fending for myself.  That I’ll always be someone else’s responsibility—my parents’ responsibility, my brother’s responsibility.  Your responsibility.  All because of something I can’t change.

 

“But for something that’s just another part of me, something I consider normal, why does something so small have to make so much of a difference.”

 

“…I’ll help you change it, then.  We can still change it.  I promise.  Things aren’t always going to be this way.  There’s already a lot changing for magic users.  There’s already so much that is getting better, so who says you’ll always have to—”

 

“You never used to lie this much to me before.”

 

The words make Naruto pause, falter at his own knee-jerk response wanting to prove Sasuke wrong, but they’re still not coming from a place of anger, not out of spite, or even resignation, simply matter-of-fact, said too soft.

 

Yet it’s not so easy to break old habits.  His knee-jerk response was the same kind of response he just tried to give Sasuke, in the same vein of all those assurances he’s always tried to give Sasuke, because there were so many times when Sasuke would just look to him, before anyone else would always look for him, with the simple murmur of Naruto’s name asking so many things, and more than anything he wanted to be able to tell Sasuke everything was going to be okay.

 

For a long time, he used to be able to say that.  For a long time, he truly did believe everything would be okay.

 

But things were a lot easier back then.

 

It doesn’t mean he was lying about what he said earlier, though.  Things are getting better for the magic user community, just not life users, the only known life user in the last couple centuries, so he knows what Sasuke meant; it’s a lot harder to push change for laws that only affect one person.

 

The reality of it all isn’t that simple, though.

 

Maybe they can’t change everything right now, but things have been changing.  And, as much as Sasuke doesn’t like it, the fact that he’s a life user has a lot to do with that change.

 

But it’s not just about the laws that treat Sasuke differently.  Even if those laws were somehow reformed, Sasuke would still have to deal with how he’s treated as a life user, sometimes the only thing about him people willingly acknowledge, completely dismissing the fact he’s still his own person, just because he happens to have life magic.

 

A considerable amount of interest in Sasuke’s life magic seems to revolve around his empathy.  People tend to focus on that more, rather than the healing aspect of Sasuke’s magic; although the extent of his ability to heal is a lot easier to hide than the last empathetic attack he had in public, because the impression that left behind, he still hasn’t been able to shake it off.

 

The connection between magic users and empathy, that’s not really a secret, anyway, but it’s already out there how Sasuke’s empathy works differently, and the way it can even affect non-magic users, which is actually sort of a big deal, since their kind of empathy normally can’t be shared with non-magic users.  To have empathy is to have magical ability.  That’s the way magic works.  Even Sasuke wasn’t an exception for that one.

 

Because Sasuke’s had to keep a low profile, there’ve been more than enough rumours to fill in the blanks about Sasuke’s empathy, trying to explain why Sasuke’s rarely been seen, why Mikoto and Fugaku haven’t allowed him to participate in ordinary things, when it’s become perfectly normal for kids of popular politicians to grow up in the spotlight.

 

(Naruto’s gone through it, too, still goes through it, for no other reason than the fact people want to know about the lives of public figures; as popular as his dad is, it just comes with the territory.)

 

Although some of those rumours floating around about Sasuke’s empathy, they hit much closer to the truth than anyone would like.

 

Sensitive definitely isn’t the worst thing he’s heard people call Sasuke, but it’s a lot more common on Sasuke’s end, around the people he’s been exposed to, after all the other things that never get a chance to reach him.

 

He knows Sasuke’s not that naïve, though.  Even if there was some way to keep everything from him, some of the stuff that’s been said about him…

 

Usually, he sees Sasuke brush it off, those comments here and there about his sensitivity, but of course it has to bother him, the way some people will still approach him, overly cautious, like he’d have some sort of emotional breakdown at the drop of a hat, or the people who project their own emotions onto him, usually by accident, without bad intentions, trying to make Sasuke comfortable, but the ones who’ve actually tried to force Sasuke to feel a certain way…

 

The worst still has to be Orochimaru.  No matter how many times he says it, he can never say enough how much he can’t stand that guy.  He won’t deny Orochimaru probably is interested in studying life magic for whatever so-called research he does, but the way he still talks about Sasuke, what Orochimaru tried to do that day he tried to corner Sasuke at the peace summit, harassing him like that, Naruto almost lost it, with Kyuubi not far behind.  They both probably would’ve, if it wasn’t for Sasuke.

 

Even around base, Sasuke’s empathy is one of the reasons a lot of people still tend to keep their distance, out of exaggerated concern, not wanting to accidentally upset him, although having someone like Uchiha Itachi for a brother probably has something to do with that, too.

 

Being called sensitive, though, that’s not what he thinks gets to Sasuke.  It’s not necessarily the words people say, but in how they say it, which Naruto still can’t get over, seeing anyone fussing over Sasuke like that, and Sasuke actually allowing it.

 

Not that Sasuke can’t be social when he needs to be.  They both grew up learning about the importance of those sorts of niceties.  Even if Sasuke didn’t have life magic, the powerful circles their families run in, everything they do reflects on their parents, so it’s not that.

 

It’s just weird.  As biting as Sasuke can be to him at times, he doesn’t know how Sasuke’s been able to maintain that kind of mild persona.  But it’s also safer that way, as much as he doesn’t like it, either, to let people continue to make their own assumptions, to let people believe Sasuke’s so much less than the person he really is.

 

“It’s fine, Naruto.  We’re not kids anymore.  I know you don’t mean to make promises you can’t keep.  But what you tried to do with my magic, just…don’t do that again.”

 

“You almost died, Sasuke.  You could’ve died.  How do you not get that?  How can you not—”

  
“Please.”

 

The single word makes Naruto go still, a barely there murmur that immediately sets him on edge, the beginnings of a gnawing discomfort forming a knot in the pit of his stomach.

 

“…what does it do, Sasuke?”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“You keep saying that, but the way you reacted, what I felt from you earlier, it has to do something, except you never told me what it did.  Back at the storeroom, whatever’s going on with your magic, you just said it felt wrong and not right, so tell me what it does to you.”

 

“It just felt wrong.”  Sasuke gives a small shake of his head.  “It’s stupid.  It doesn’t do anything.”

 

“It’s just me.  You always talk to me—you always tell me when something’s wrong.  And if I’m the one who did it to you, I…”

 

“It doesn’t matter because you can’t know what it’s like.  You don’t have life magic, so you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“Maybe you’re right, but I…”  Hesitating, Naruto licks his lips, eyes drawn to the murals on the other side of the cave.  “Let me try, then.  At least let me do that for you.”

 

There’s a stilted pause, and Sasuke shifts, turning his head, as the arm around him relaxes with his movement.  “…taking another person’s life force, it goes against everything my magic is.  There’s nothing that feels natural about it, because that’s not what it’s supposed to do.  And every time it’s happened, I…it creates a fixed decay.”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“The life force becomes distorted.  It’s not just the holes and tears I know how to fix.  It’s more than provisional dead space.  It’s not something the body can heal from on its own.  Using my magic makes it permanent, because the life force is actually deteriorating as I take it. 

 

“But then there’s this cold, this pervasive cold that comes with it.  It seeps into everything.  My magic, my skin, somehow able to touch every part of me at once, this…this inherent sense of _wrong_ crawling all over my body, inside and out, and it makes me feel like I’m—

 

“It doesn’t even take much, though.  Just by touching someone, that’s what makes it so…but even if the touch doesn’t last long, it always happens so slowly.  And it’s only happened a few times, but it doesn’t even feel like my magic anymore because my body can’t move.  When it happens, I just…

 

“There’s nothing I can do.  When I feel it touching me, as soon as it touches my magic, I can’t do anything to stop it.  I have to let it happen.  To take someone’s life force, what it means to take that kind of fixed decay into my body, to feel it festering inside me.  Even worse, knowing my magic caused it…”

 

Naruto tries to swallow back the hollowed-out feeling in his throat, that awful, gnawing discomfort this time in his chest, when he remembers it wasn’t that long ago Sasuke had taken off Juugo’s collar.

 

Because Juugo had been worried enough to bring it again to Itachi’s attention, after Sasuke had finally gone to sleep, between the three of them still awake, and Naruto remembers the unease in red eyes, after Juugo stressed he had to forcibly pry the collar from the grip of an unresponsive Sasuke; he remembers Itachi’s darkened gaze that soon fell to him, Itachi reminding him that Sasuke would be under his care, and reiterating how important it was for him to ensure Sasuke wouldn’t use his magic to anywhere near that extent again.

 

Sasuke might’ve made empty threats about draining his life force before, but, not counting Naruto’s attempt to set it in motion, outside that one time when Sasuke kissed him before, it hasn’t happened again.  Sasuke’s the one who tried to pull away from him after that, nearly put off the idea of even kissing altogether, and while it was obvious he was a little shaken up, all Sasuke said was that he could’ve killed him.

 

He tried to convince Sasuke that wasn’t the case, because it really wasn’t, tried to lighten the mood joking about Sasuke having sex magic in the form of breath play, so when Sasuke kissed him again, and nothing else happened, he thought that was the end of it.

 

Yet for Sasuke to admit to something like this now…

 

Honestly, he didn’t know.

 

Still, even hearing Sasuke talk about it, getting an idea of just how badly Sasuke was affected by it, with the situation they’re in, he doesn’t know if he can say he would’ve done anything differently, but being the one to turn Sasuke’s magic against him, knowing he’s the one who caused Sasuke to feel that way, that’s not what he was trying to do.

 

He was just trying to get Sasuke to wake up.

 

“…I didn’t know.”

 

“…you weren’t supposed to.”

 

Naruto releases a heavy sigh.  “So, the magic from Juugo’s collar, when you said it felt wrong, that’s what you really meant.  That it made you feel like…”

 

Sasuke shifts again, face pressed against Naruto’s shoulder.

 

“But I thought…”  Naruto can still see it in his mind, when Sasuke woke up, eyes wide open already turned white, Sasuke not even moving.  “But if you can give your life force to heal people, why can’t you do it the other way around?  Shouldn’t you be able to do that, too?”

 

“It doesn’t work that way.  It never worked that way.  It’s always made more sense for me to give my own life force.  You already know that.”

 

Of course he does.  That’s why he’s even struggling to keep Sasuke warm now.  Empathy on its own doesn’t do much, but physical touch can help ground Sasuke.  While it doesn’t always work, he still always tries to give enough warmth for the both of them, even if it’s just a casual brush against Sasuke’s arm, or reaching out to take Sasuke’s hand.  Right now, it’s just keeping his hand over the back of Sasuke’s neck.

 

Since waking up, though, little by little, slowly, Sasuke’s started to feel a little warmer, not by that much, but it’s still better than how he was before.

 

“Then, your healing magic, when you used it on me, you said I would’ve died without your magic, so how is that any different?”

 

“Giving my life force isn’t the same as taking someone else’s away.”

 

“But if I was dying, that fixed decay you were talking about, you would’ve felt that, too, right?”

 

“No, that’s—it’s different because…you know how it feels to take a life.”

 

Naruto turns stiff for a second or two, looking down, caught off guard that Sasuke would choose now to bring that up, or even why.  Sasuke didn’t say it in a judgemental way, didn’t imply anything bad, but it’s still a sore subject for him.

 

It’s something he shared with Sasuke not too long after the fact.  He gave him a rundown on what happened, told him about the seemingly humdrum kind of trip every trainee makes at least once, except this one went ass up as soon they landed off world.

 

He just didn’t tell Sasuke how bad it really was.

 

But that whole thing was botched from the start, before they even left base.  The moment Mizuki signed off on it, that was when everything started to go wrong.  Because it was supposed to be a training exercise, moving supplies to one of the refugee transition centres on Doraf, just a simple support mission that had no business playing out the way it did.

 

Self-defence was on the official write-up.  It was the consequence of an unfortunate necessity, Iruka assured him.  Nobody on his team argued against that.  Better yet, he was commended for his so-called valour in the line of duty.  It’s just not a point he likes to bring up voluntarily, definitely not one he goes around announcing proudly, because killing someone isn’t exactly the kind of thing that’s easy to get over with time.

 

Even after knowing what Mizuki tried to do to Iruka, how far he was willing to go, even at the expense of risking the lives of all those civilians at the transition centre and Iruka’s students (almost did kill Ino and Shikamaru), being responsible for taking another person’s life, it just wasn’t a good feeling.  Still isn’t.

 

But it is what it is.  That’s the reality of serving in the military.  Even with all the good they actually do, and as much as he loves flying, excited as he is about his early acceptance into the SFTI programme after graduation, he’s ultimately still training to be a soldier, and death is something that can happen around anyone on the field, even a trainee like him, barely in his third year.

 

Itachi’s probably killed more times than he cares to know, but Sasuke’s not asking Itachi.  Sasuke’s asking him.  Sasuke being able to take someone else’s life force, like most everything to do with Sasuke’s magic, Itachi already knows about that.  How doing it actually affects Sasuke, though, if this is the first time Naruto’s hearing about it, there’s a really good chance Sasuke hasn’t even told Itachi yet.

 

Still, Sasuke wouldn’t just say something like that out of nowhere.

                                                                                       

“You’ve never killed anyone, though.  Even with what happened with me, no matter what you seem to think, it seriously didn’t even come close.  So why bring it up?”

 

“That’s the closest I…”  Sasuke’s voice begins to drift, breathing finally starting to mellow.

 

For now, it seems like Sasuke will be okay.  He’s just nodding off, not slurring or anything, but he hasn’t forgotten about Sasuke’s concussion, so he wants to keep Sasuke up for a little while longer, just to make sure, at least until Sasuke’s able to retain more body heat.  He’s still shivering a little, and although it’s not quite hypothermia, and it doesn’t seem like Sasuke might go into shock, it won’t make a difference if Sasuke’s life magic is keeping his body from recovering.

 

“…hey.” He gives Sasuke a gentle nudge.  “Don’t go back to sleep on me just yet, all right.  You didn’t finish telling me.  What’s the difference between taking someone’s life force and giving yours away?”

 

Sasuke breathes in softly, breathes out with a low hum.  “…it’s the body that starts to die first,” he murmurs.  “It’s always the body first, but within another person’s life force, as long as the damage isn’t a fixed point, dying isn’t the same.”

 

“You’re saying someone’s life force…can act like some kind of invisible tether?”

 

“Something like that, I guess.  I know I keep telling you ghosts aren’t real, because I still don’t believe in ghosts, but…someone’s life signature, even if the body dies, that doesn’t always mean the life force immediately follows.  It can linger for a little while longer.  There’s still a chance I—as long as I can feel that, as long as I can hold on to someone’s life force, I can keep them alive.”

 

“…and how long does someone’s life force usually stay in their body?” Naruto says, the last few words drawn out a little too long, although he’s not even sure he really wants to know.  “When you say linger, what does that actually mean?”

 

“…depends,” Sasuke says, with a careful hesitation, because it’s probably just a less direct way of admitting he doesn’t know.  Actually, it’s starting to sound more like the start of another one of Sasuke’s misguided, supposed theories, those not so well thought-out ideas that have the amazing tendency to always backfire in the worst kinds of ways.

 

“But that’s why I…it wasn’t that I was worried about being able to heal you.  I just didn’t know if I’d be able to reach you in time, if I’d be able to use my magic fast enough.  You were already dying, Naruto.  I didn’t want to take that chance.”

 

The fact that Sasuke was more concerned about his life magic working fast enough, with no trace of underlying doubt, that assured in his inherent ability to heal a wound so severe, it definitely doesn’t slip by Naruto’s notice, but he’s still a little shocked by that first admission, not really sure what to do with the implications of something like that just yet.

 

The way Sasuke put it, no, it’s not like ghosts, but with that kind of vague description about the life force not immediately leaving the body, considering Sasuke can also heal fatal wounds (something he already knew beforehand, skin, bones, and all), it’s damn near close enough that Sasuke might as well have just said he can bring the dead back to life.

 

“With how quickly the venom spread, how it affects the body, even before I touched you, I knew you would’ve died if I hadn’t used my magic.  Kyuubi felt it, too.”

 

Naruto frowns.  “Yeah, you already told me that, but Kyuubi didn’t tell me he—”

 

“He wouldn’t.  He’ll probably be upset with me for even telling you, but he doesn’t like to admit to things like that.”  Sasuke gives another low hum.  “He wasn’t afraid for himself, though.  He was afraid for you.”

 

Suddenly, Kyuubi’s presence is suspiciously absent, not even responding to Naruto’s light mental nudge.

 

That he knows of, Sasuke’s the only other person who can communicate directly with Kyuubi, so he doesn’t have any reason not to believe him.  Living with Kyuubi doesn’t mean they’re always aware of each other’s thoughts or feelings; the concept of privacy is a very real thing between them, and although it’s not really something he’s had to worry about before, there are still some personal aspects of his life he prefers to keep to himself.  Same goes for Kyuubi.

 

That’s why their relationship is easy, why they’ve been able to mesh so well, or as well as he could while sort of sharing his body with an ancient, sentient form of pure, raw magic who kind of has an apparent but not really affinity for fire.  It’s something that just is.  But as far as what would happen to Kyuubi if he dies, it’s something he’s only started to think about recently.  Kyuubi’s always just been… _there_ , since seemingly forever, probably further back than he can remember.

 

The first time he met Kyuubi was maybe when he was around four or five, while he was dreaming, and in his mind all he saw was this massive, golden red fox with nine tails, snarling and pacing in a large, dimly lit space that it didn’t seem he could leave.  He was a little scared at first, not knowing what, or who Kyuubi was, but at that point it just seemed like a dream.

 

And then the fox would start appearing to him outside his dreams, not always snarling and pacing, sometimes lying on the floor quietly, still unable to leave that space he was confined to, but he started to speak every once in a while, would make snide remarks sharing his hatred and distrust for the humans he looked down on, while refusing to respond to anything Naruto said.

 

In the beginning, the fox was really angry, really irritated, and when he’d finally started talking to him, it would be with be with an agitated huff, mostly his resentment for being sealed into the wretched body of a mortal child.  By the time Naruto was six, though, he came to the conclusion the giant, nine-tailed fox in his head was just something he’d imagined; that was also when Kyuubi finally decided to introduce himself ( _You will address me as Kyuubi, Boy_ ), although he hadn’t said anything about Naruto thinking of him as the imaginary voice in his head.

 

So, he’d taunt Kyuubi a little, since that was the only way he could get a direct response from his own imagination, asking Kyuubi why he didn’t just leave if he was so unhappy being stuck with him, because if Kyuubi was so powerful, he should be able to break a measly seal, but then one day Kyuubi said:

 

_…because I’m alone._

 

And Naruto did the only thing he could do.

 

He offered to be Kyuubi’s friend.

 

Over time, Kyuubi started to open up more, accepted Naruto’s suggestion of trying to make the best of a situation, the advice Naruto’s parents gave him, and they started getting along, just had that connection with each other, even though Kyuubi kept calling him Boy all the time, because even if Kyuubi was the just the fox from his dreams, somehow, he’d still always thought of Kyuubi as _real_.

 

It was like that for a couple more years, until he was eight, old enough to start questioning the fact he was having these very long conversations with the voice in his head, when the fox he’d dreamed up didn’t feel so imaginary anymore, around the same time Sasuke got his empathy when Naruto started to feel a magic separate from his own—Kyuubi’s magic.

 

One day, he asked Kyuubi if it was okay to tell his parents about him.  Kyuubi gave a half-hearted growl ( _…do what you will, Naruto_ ), and retreated beneath his tails.

 

As surprised as he thought his parents would be, they hadn’t been surprised at all when he told them about the voice in his head, actually surprising him.  Then again, with magic existing, maybe it shouldn’t have been so surprising, but he also found out, that from his mom’s side of the family, there was a lot of lore about Kyuubi, stuff that stayed strictly between a select few within the Uzumaki line, which might’ve been the least surprising thing from that conversation.

 

Each and every one of the big families had not only their own elemental affinities and special techniques to go with them, but also different parts of magic lore they kept to themselves, probably the biggest reason there’s either little information or no consistency about the origins of magic and the history of magic users.  Secrets kept passed down generations, because those were the secrets that could keep magic users safe.  And having such a close association to Kyuubi, an incredibly powerful, ancient being who was once feared as a destroyer of worlds, that was definitely one of those secrets.

 

But Kyuubi’s definitely old.  The way he’s always carried himself, the way he’s always talked, he doesn’t just act or sound old.  Naruto can actually feel it sometimes, just by the imposing nature of Kyuubi’s presence, the feel of Kyuubi’s magic when it’s intertwined with his own, and even if Kyuubi still can’t remember his own name, the only thing that matters is that Kyuubi said he once had one.  And Naruto still believes it, still hasn’t forgotten the promise he made to help Kyuubi find his name.

 

Whoever Kyuubi was then, though, that’s not who Kyuubi is now.

 

His mom used to tell him it was a good thing Kyuubi was able to find his way to someone like him, someone who could help Kyuubi find his calm, help him become more human.

 

Having grown up alongside Kyuubi, there’s no doubt their personalities have rubbed off on each other.  It shows whenever Kyuubi feels closer to the surface, amplifying Naruto’s emotions and making it easier to borrow from Kyuubi’s magic.

 

But there were a lot of things Kyuubi again had to discover for the first time, too, partly why Naruto struggled with his magic so much in the beginning: not just because of how much power he had to deal with that young, but also because Kyuubi didn’t realise the extent of his own power, either.  Neither of them did.

 

He’s always had a higher sensitivity than average, not as high as Sasuke’s, but there were still times when his emotions would get the best of him, and Kyuubi would take over for him; however strongly he felt about Naruto, Kyuubi’s general distrust of most humans hadn’t completely gone away, instantly renewed by anyone who mistreated Naruto.

 

For the most part, Kyuubi takes a backseat, preferring to sleep in, or laze around, keeping a silent watch over him, not interfering unless he feels the need to; the only times Kyuubi’s really decided to interfere on his own were only the times he felt Naruto was in distress, although that hasn’t always been so clear-cut in the past.

 

Kyuubi isn’t exactly a constant voice in his head anymore, much less talkative than he used to be, but they still have this sense of each other, an ability to understand one another without words, which is why Naruto considers him such an important part of who he is.  And while he knows Kyuubi genuinely does care about him, he thought at least some of that concern came from a healthy amount of self-preservation.

 

If anything did happen to him, Kyuubi wouldn’t suddenly stop existing, that much he does know, because Kyuubi’s pure magic.  Although, considering how Kyuubi came to him, with no memories of who he was, only bits and pieces of emotions from a life he no longer belonged to, that doesn’t necessarily mean Kyuubi would find it easy to move on, and he worries about that a little, the idea Kyuubi might lose his memories again, the memories they’ve made together, might lose even more of himself to that mindless hatred he used to have.

 

Whatever brought Kyuubi to him, even if he might’ve started off as just some kind of vessel or host for Kyuubi, he honestly can’t imagine a life without him, and the thought of Kyuubi having to start over, of Kyuubi ever being that lost again, how someone else might not try to understand him, he doesn’t want to—

 

_I told you Sachi would be fine, Naruto.  Such a needless way to taint Sachi’s magic.  Tch.  Next time, listen to me, and do as I say.  If Sachi were truly in danger, I would warn you._

 

Naruto inwardly heaves a sigh at Kyuubi’s poor attempt to change the subject.  He only goes along with it because Kyuubi just proved Sasuke’s point, but if a barely breathing, sickly pale, and shivering Sasuke is Kyuubi’s version of fine, clearly, this is just one of those things they’re going to have to disagree on, and not something he’s going to let Kyuubi try to lord over him.  Really, he doesn’t need to hear another _I told you so_ from a stuck-up, cranky old fox who’s worse than Sasuke when it comes to being allergic to his own feelings.

 

Then again, in the same way Kyuubi won’t openly admit to being concerned for him, as much as Kyuubi likes to grumble about not being able to defend himself against Sasuke, as much as he apparently gets a kick out of calling Sasuke weird names, any immediate threat to Sasuke, and Naruto knows he’d be seriously hard-pressed to keep Kyuubi contained.

 

“I guess Kyuubi’s still mad at me, too, for what I did.  He keeps telling him he would’ve known if you weren’t going to be okay.” 

 

“Kyuubi’s like you.  He can’t sense life energies, either.  More than just my magic, though, somehow, he still has this sense of me.  I don’t know why, probably something to do with me being a life user, but that’s what I mean by the body dying first.  There’s a difference.  Except my body wasn’t dying.  It was just resting.”

 

“…you know,” Naruto starts off slowly, “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, because I’ve already seen it happen before, but from the outside looking in, it really doesn’t look that way.  Exhausting your life force, when you do that, Sasuke, your whole body just…it just shuts down.  You don’t respond to anything.  It’s hard enough trying to find a pulse when you’re like that, even with a bio-scanner.  And it’s not that you barely move—you _don’t_ move.  You don’t breathe at all sometimes.  Hell, people in medical isolation chambers make more noise than you do.

 

“And since I can’t pick up on life energies like you, since you’re the only one who can actually do that, how else do you expect anyone to take having to see you like that?”

 

“I don’t expect anything, but I trust my magic.  Even with everything that’s been going on lately, I still do.  I wouldn’t have tried raising a ship for the first time if I didn’t.”

 

Sasuke relying too much on his magic, that’s not a road Naruto’s trying to go down right now, and really, he’s not in the mood.  “But even if you had done something like that before, Sasuke, it was still an unnecessary risk to you, an unacceptable risk, especially when you’d given so much of your life force already.  More than you needed to heal me.”

 

Against him Sasuke tenses, probably not expecting him to have noticed, but even if he and Itachi hadn’t already talked about it before, he already knows plenty enough about Sasuke’s life magic and how using it can affect him, so Sasuke can’t really believe he’d miss something like that.

 

“…because I thought—the way you were screaming, Naruto, just seeing you like that, I...I thought I wouldn’t be able to save you.  I thought it was going to be like…”

 

“…like the same thing that happened with Shisui.”

 

With a sharp inhale, Sasuke breathes out slow.  “…yeah.” 

 

Pulling Sasuke closer towards him, Naruto shifts against the uneven surface digging into his back, Sasuke’s skin still cool beneath his hand placed against Sasuke’s neck.

 

“I know I should be over Shisui’s death by now.  I know I shouldn’t let something like that bother me anymore, because it was so long ago, but I still dream about it sometimes.  And ever since what happened on Gade II, when that guy grabbed my arm, I started wondering about it again, started remembering the look on Shisui’s face from that day.  Started to think maybe…

 

“What if the reason I wasn’t able to save Shisui, is because I’m the one who killed him?  What if that was my magic?  What if that was me?

 

“Because if I hadn’t tried to save him, if I hadn’t touched him, if it weren’t for me, maybe Shisui would still be alive.  And maybe everything now wouldn’t be so…”

 

“Sasuke, you…”

 

Sasuke’s never really opened up to him about Shisui’s death.  He usually just avoids talking about it, and it’s something Naruto knows better than to press him on, because he knows a lot of issues Sasuke has about his life magic stem from that.

 

Honestly, he’s not surprised Sasuke isn’t over it.  Sasuke won’t say it outright, but the way it happened, when it happened, to watch someone die at the age, and not just anyone, someone who he knew was as close to Itachi as Shisui was, Naruto doesn’t think he’d be over it, either.

 

And after almost losing him the way he lost Shisui, having to relive that again, that fear of not being able to save him, no wonder why Sasuke got so upset with him back at the ship.

 

While Naruto wasn’t there, he knows the gist of what happened.  Most people who lived near the Capital at the time, they know it, too.  And although Itachi’s the one who found them in one of their family’s gardens, even he doesn’t know what happened that day, or how Sasuke and Shisui even ended up by the river in the first place.

 

But the aftermath was pretty brutal.  It wasn’t enough that Sasuke almost died, too.  The whole thing blew up into a huge scandal.

 

There were a lot of rumours then, a lot of theories going around: revenge against the Uchiha family, an assassination carried out by Federation extremists, a kidnapping attempt gone wrong, revolt from within the Uchiha family, a random attack from an anti-magic fanatic, Shisui being a double agent who’d made an arrangement for a secret drop-off that failed.  Some even went as far to suggest there were members of the Council who wanted to make an example of Shisui, as a threat to keep the Uchiha family in line.

 

It just became this big media frenzy, especially since it involved one of the most well-known families of magic users, and one of the largest, most powerful families in the Alliance.  That kind of news sold a lot more than the everyday gossip run on tabloids.

 

The rumours that stuck out, though, were the ones that pushed the idea Itachi was somehow behind it: some kind fallout between them, that led to Itachi attacking his fellow prodigy, because he was jealous of Shisui’s accomplishments; accusing Itachi of either taking out Shisui himself or being the one who ordered the hit, completely ignoring that Itachi and Shisui were close, extremely close, like brothers, just without the ten year age gap that separated Itachi from Sasuke—not to mention the idea that Itachi would even put Sasuke in that kind of situation.

 

The fact that Itachi was already known as a shadow user didn’t help, but from then what started off as just rumours took on a life of its own, and although criminal charges weren’t pressed, the bad publicity almost cost Itachi his professional military career before it even started.

 

More than just a magic user prodigy, Itachi was also considered a military prodigy, having graduated early from the Academy with top marks at sixteen, already the top of his class in the SFTI programme, seen as one of the best officer candidate in years.

 

But an up-and-coming graduate in the AAF caught at the scene of an apparent murder, just in time to find his younger brother unconscious —not only did it nearly destroy Itachi’s character, for a time it was a serious hit to Mikoto’s and Fugaku’s credibility, too, made a lot more people start questioning the motives of the Uchiha family as a whole.

 

Even though all those rumours were based purely on speculation, and ended up eventually being proved untrue, with Itachi ultimately ruled out as a suspect in an unsolved homicide with no apparent cause of death, it was still a pretty big blow to the Uchiha name, because that kind of family scandal was the perfect storm of wealth, power, and politics that could fuel the gossip mill for a long time.  Probably would have done a lot more damage if it hadn’t somehow gotten out about Sasuke having life magic.

 

He never learned the exact details of how it got out, specifics like who did what, just that there was the kind of money involved to sooner or later tip somebody over; discovering the first life user in centuries was more than enough to completely shift the focus toward Sasuke, and it just went downhill from there.

 

After it got out, everything seemed to revolve around Sasuke, and for a while, he was even jealous of the attention Sasuke was getting.  But he didn’t know what being a life user was supposed to mean.  All he knew at nine was that there were a lot more visits from important people his parents worked with, that his parents were busier, travelling a lot more, and started leaving him under the care of Itachi, where it would just be the two of them sometimes.

 

Most importantly, though, he wasn’t able to see Sasuke like he used to.

 

He remembers one day suddenly being told he couldn’t play with Sasuke anymore.  Nobody would tell him why.  Just that Sasuke was sick again, and for him to bear with it until Sasuke was better, despite him constantly asking when that was going to be.

 

It wasn’t even that long since Sasuke had been discharged from his last long hospital stay, only to end up right back there again, except this time even Iyashi wouldn’t let Naruto visit.

 

And when he finally was able to see Sasuke again, it wasn’t the Sasuke he knew.  It was a Sasuke reluctant to do much of anything, still less wary of Naruto than he was of most people, but not as open with Naruto as he used to be.

 

Although Sasuke wasn’t really that outgoing to start with, after his empathy first hit, as much time as he spent learning to manage that, at least it was still something that let him relate to other magic users, even if he didn’t have magic.

 

But with his life magic, when that hit, it almost left him completely isolated.  And that really did change him.

 

It changed a lot of things.  For his parents to even let him spend time with Sasuke, there were so many rules he had to follow, or he wouldn’t be able to play with Sasuke at all.  And something as simple as a light punch to the arm, or just a pat on the shoulder, the easy contact he used to have with Sasuke before, that was the kind of thing he wasn’t allowed to do.

 

He had to keep his distance.  They weren’t allowed to wander off on their own.  A safe adult had to be with them at all times, someone like one of their parents, or Itachi, sometimes Iyashi, or one of the private nursing staff who ran the ward Sasuke started staying in again.  After a few weeks, Iyashi started inviting him back to Sasuke’s therapy sessions, for his sake as much as Sasuke’s, and although Sasuke said he was okay with it, he still kept mostly to himself, wouldn’t even try to sit close to Naruto anymore.

 

He’d get annoyed sometimes, whenever Naruto started to ask too many questions, tried to ask why Sasuke had been gone for so long, or why he didn’t want to talk to him as much, why he was always weird about wearing pants and jackets over long-sleeved shirts, since it was still summer and not even close to being that cold—and the gloves, especially the gloves, because Sasuke even wore those indoors.

 

_“What’s wrong with you?  Are you still sick or something?”_

_“I never said I was sick.  Nothing’s wrong with me.”_

 

_“Then why can’t you play like you normally do, huh?”_

_“Because I can’t.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because I just can’t, Naruto.  My parents and my brother said I can’t, so stop asking already before I hit you.”_

 

Of course, as a pre-emptive strike, Naruto’s reaction was to take the initiative to hit Sasuke first, which led to a near all-out brawl, inspiring Naruto’s steadfast determination to tear off at least one, if not both of those gloves.

 

Not surprisingly, that didn’t go over so well, somehow landing him in way more trouble than Sasuke for, according to his mom and dad, not being mindful of Sasuke’s personal boundaries; supposedly, being older meant always trying to set a good example, which included, but was definitely not limited to, trying not to scar poor Nurse Mitate, who’d been assigned by Iyashi to oversee Sasuke’s free session that day.

 

It was also the first time anyone really sat him down to explain Sasuke’s life magic and why Sasuke couldn’t do the things he used to.  Right after the first time he experienced Sasuke’s healing magic, the first time he saw Sasuke’s eyes glow white, a little too stunned to realise the bruising around his eye was already completely healed where Sasuke had last touched it, because that was when Sasuke decided to pass out on top of him.

 

Eventually, he got used to it, though, how much quieter Sasuke was, more and more of what Sasuke could and couldn’t do.  By the time he was old enough to really understand Sasuke’s situation, he was already dealing with his own issues trying to contain his magic, alongside the revelation that Kyuubi was much more than just the imaginary voice in his head he sometimes listened to on occasion.

 

Whatever normal is for a magic user, or at least whatever it’s supposed to be, Sasuke’s life could sort of pass for that now.  It just took a while to get there.  He’s still mostly reserved, still doesn’t like being near too many people at once, but he’s a lot more open to the idea of being around people he doesn’t know, a lot less jumpy about being accidentally touched, mostly because of how much more comfortable he is in his ability to keep up his shields. 

 

And it’s not that Sasuke’s an emotionless guy.  People who don’t know him, it’s hard for them to understand why he is the way he is.  It’s definitely not as bad as it was even a couple years ago, but too many people still like to pass Sasuke off as either too shy or too distant, automatically expect him to be emotionally accessible to every stranger he meets just because he’s a life user and the way his empathy works.

 

But he has to keep better control over his emotions than most magic users, since he’s sensitive to anyone who doesn’t know how to shield their emotions, which, unfortunately, leaves the majority of people out there, pretty much every non-magic user out there.  Constantly having to deal with the possibility of that kind of exposure, being able to feel another person’s emotions as strongly as Sasuke can, on top of how strongly he already feels his own, even with his shields, that’s enough to make anyone a little more guarded.

 

Knowing where Sasuke started, though, knowing how far he’s come, it makes sense why he’s been so bothered about whatever being on Barrah is doing to his magic, and seemingly hell-bent on trying to prove himself, to the point where he wants to conveniently forget the fact that he does have limitations.

 

Although he won’t fault Sasuke for that, it’s definitely not a free pass for him using his life force to power a ship like he’s some kind of goddamn battery, but Sasuke’s pushed himself hard to get where he is now, and to see it all so suddenly seem to slip away from him, with everything that’s happened in the past few days, it’s been frustrating on Naruto’s end, too.

 

It’s only been a year since Sasuke’s even stopped having to wear those specialised gloves, so having to see that kind uncertainty again from Sasuke, and not knowing what he can do to help, not being able to do anything to make it better, it’s hard enough just to watch.

 

If it wasn’t just the two of them, if there were other people around, people Sasuke wasn’t used to, honestly, in the condition Sasuke’s in, he doesn’t know if Sasuke would be able to handle it.

 

And now with that unmarked ship out there, with those mercenaries most likely looking for them, hopefully a lot less dead than alive, people who Itachi said aren’t magic users, people who don’t know how to shield their emotions, just the thought of Sasuke being exposed to that…

 

He looks down when Sasuke shivers again, Sasuke still bundled, curled up against him, if possible trying to press even closer.

 

 “…it was wet,” Sasuke whispers, voice muffled against Naruto’s shoulder, almost too quiet against the soft crackle of the fire. “Everything was wet—that’s the first thing I always remember.  I don’t think it was dark yet.  The middle of the afternoon, maybe.  I still can’t remember what happened before, or why we were even in the garden.  Just, we were by the river, right near the bank.

 

“I don’t remember being in the river, either, but we were both so wet.  I was starting to get cold.  And Shisui was still breathing.  I remember that because for some reason it sounded so loud.  In and out, these small little breaths I kept hearing right next to me.  And when I looked over to him, his eyes were open, but he wasn’t looking at anything.  He didn’t even turn to look at me.  He was on his back, just lying there.  Staring up at nothing.

 

“And he was so still, Naruto.  Shisui was just—

 

“That’s when everything around me started to feel… _wrong_.  Everything felt so wrong, but I…I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t think.  I couldn’t even say his name.  I don’t know how long I sat there watching him, waiting for something to happen, just waiting for him to move, waiting for him to even blink, but then I….suddenly, I had this idea to touch him.

 

“I thought if I could just…if I could just reach out and touch him, that I’d be able to make everything right again.  So, I leaned over, and my hands, I reached for his face with my hands, because I still couldn’t look away from his eyes, but as long as I was able to touch him, as long as I didn’t stop touching him, somehow, even if my hands were too small, even if Shisui was still too cold and wet, something in me just knew that’d be enough to fix what was wrong.

 

“Except it kept getting colder.  And I was already so wet.  And I couldn’t understand why suddenly it was so hard for me to breathe, why my eyes started to hurt, but then I started to _see_ him.  Of course I didn’t know I was seeing his life force, but I could feel him, too.  That’s how I knew he was still alive, because it wasn’t all just empty space.  All those tears and holes, so many holes all over his body, that’s all there was at first, but then they started to close.

 

“And I _know_ —I know if I had just a little longer, if I had more time, I could’ve saved him.  There wasn’t that much of his life force left, but there was enough that I could feel it.  It was still there.

 

“So, I tried to hold on to that.  It was just dead space and missing pieces, and I know I could’ve fixed it.  I know I could’ve fixed everything that was wrong, because there was still so much I could’ve done, but I wasn’t strong enough to save him.  I couldn’t.  As hard as I tried, it just wasn’t enough.

 

“If Itachi hadn’t pulled me away, then maybe Shisui would still…”

 

He shivers, turning his cheek against Naruto’s right shoulder, trying to catch the slight hitch in his breath.

 

Looking down, Naruto checks to see Sasuke’s eyes are closed, not for the first time making sure Sasuke’s not staring at his arm again.

 

Back when they were kids, whenever he and Sasuke would end up like this, it was usually because Sasuke had an empathetic attack.

 

As sensitive as Sasuke already was, ever since that day Shisui died, having life magic seemed to make Sasuke’s empathy that much worse.  It was like all the progress he’d made during the year since then was suddenly reset.

 

He’d only had his empathy for a year then, and was still way behind on his empathy development compared to other kids his age.  Even for Naruto, although he got his empathy later than average at six, it didn’t take long for him to catch up, but Sasuke’s base empathy level was naturally just that high.  That’s why he reacted so violently when his empathy appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

 

A few weeks after Sasuke’s life magic appeared, when Naruto was allowed to visit him in the hospital again, at first, everything seemed fine.  During all of his visits up until that point, even during those first couple months after Sasuke got his empathy, aside from what happened in the classroom that day, Naruto hadn’t actually seen Sasuke experiencing another empathetic attack on that scale; although he knew Sasuke still had small episodes here and there, as far as anyone told him, most days were fine.

 

Some visits, Itachi would already be there, sitting on the really comfortable sofa in Sasuke’s large room, and Sasuke would be knocked out, practically draped every which way over his brother, but those days Naruto didn’t mind being able to talk to Itachi, because Itachi always seemed interested in what he had to say.  What he didn’t know then, though, was that those days usually meant Sasuke had gone through another empathetic attack.  No one told him how bad it still got.  Not even Sasuke.

 

Eventually, he’d learn those were the days Sasuke would experience these really rough spikes, where he couldn’t handle his empathy at all, even when other people weren’t nearby, because sometimes his own emotions would set it off.

 

He wouldn’t eat.  He wouldn’t sleep.  Having those attacks would put that much stress on his body.  Of course, he was a still a kid, so he couldn’t be left completely alone, but then having anyone around him who wasn’t Itachi only seemed to make it worse.

 

That was one of the main reasons it was decided he stay at the hospital, those real bad days when Sasuke wouldn’t let anyone else come near him, not even his mom or dad, those times Itachi couldn’t always be there.  He wouldn’t cry—no matter what Sasuke’s magic put him through, Naruto’s never seen him cry—but he’d scream himself hoarse, whether he was conscious or not, because even in his sleep, or sedated as it was safe for an eight year old to be, nothing dulled his sensitivity.  There was no off switch. 

 

At most, being sedated might’ve calmed him down for a few minutes at a time, but considering what it took to even sedate him, when touching him would cause him more pain, it usually wasn’t worth the small payoff.

 

Still, Reife Hospital was considered among the best of the best, actually not that old, but with all the latest medical advances, where a lot of medical professional tried to go.  Plus, with the still on-going construction, expanding the building with additional floors, that was how Sasuke’s family even managed the arrangement the first time; they could more than afford having a private ward for Sasuke, on a supposedly missing thirteenth floor with restricted access.

 

Having to stay there for so long, spending that much time with so few people, Sasuke was almost completely isolated, but it wasn’t just for his empathy.  It was for privacy and security reasons, too.  The scandal surrounding Shisui’s death hadn’t suddenly fallen by the wayside, and more and more people wanted to know about Sasuke being a life user.

 

But the first time Naruto saw Sasuke going through one of those rough spikes, the second time he’d actually seen Sasuke having an empathetic attack on that scale, the day one of the few times when Itachi couldn’t be there…

 

He’d been anxious that whole day during school, a little too loud, a lot impatient, looking forward to seeing Sasuke, because he really missed just being able to hang out with Sasuke, and was determined to make up for lost time.

 

Reife wasn’t that far away from the school, but his parents had been arranging rides for his visits by then, after the first time he snuck off on his own to visit Sasuke.

 

After signing himself in at the reception area, being screened, having a nurse from Sasuke’s care team meet him by the elevator, he didn’t realise anything was wrong, while he was being escorted to Sasuke’s floor, couldn’t have known what he’d find on other side of the main doors, because the entire ward was soundproofed for a reason.

 

But he’d never forget those screams.

 

As soon as he began to push on the heavy door, hearing those screams from Sasuke ran his blood cold.

 

And for a moment, he just froze. 

 

“…Sasuke.”

 

The name fell soft from his lips, as he said it again grew louder when he threw the door wide open, dodging the nurse who tried to pull him back, and he took off running to Sasuke’s room—brought to the sight of five people surrounding Sasuke, trying to calm him, trying to sedate him, as Sasuke kept kicking, screaming his lungs out, like he was being tortured, thrashing against the hands trying to hold him down, too many hands trying to touch him at once, too many people who were too close.

 

Despite all the noise, he could still hear Kyuubi’s agitated snarl in the back of his mind, and though he knew they were only trying to help Sasuke, trying to keep Sasuke from hurting himself, all he could think of was the way Sasuke kept screaming for them to stop, so he started shouting at them, too, shouted at them to stop touching Sasuke, because they were too close to him, because they were hurting him, why couldn’t they see they were hurting him—and he began pushing his way through the room, avoiding the hands trying to grab him, trying to prevent him from reaching Sasuke, ignoring the blur of voices telling him he shouldn’t be there.

 

Somewhere in there he heard Mikoto’s voice, telling everyone to let him through, and as soon as he got close to the edge of the bed, Sasuke was already on him, arms around Naruto’s waist, breathing hard, shaking like crazy, and Naruto staggered under the sudden weight, nearly bowled over while catching Sasuke; even though he was taller, he wasn’t that much heavier, but Fugaku had caught him before they both could fall, careful not to touch Sasuke.

 

As the room slowly began to clear, still filled with some quiet conversation, while Mikoto was speaking to one of the nurses or doctors, Fugaku suggested Naruto sit down.  He helped Naruto climb on to the bed, all but picking him up, since it didn’t look like Sasuke was planning on letting go any time soon, leaving Naruto to manoeuvre Sasuke with him, trying to get Sasuke settled between his legs, while Sasuke did his best trying to crawl inside him.

 

When Mikoto came back, she offered Naruto a tired smile, started small talk, asking him how he was doing, how was school, if he needed anything.  Naruto said he was okay, but she still tried to get him comfortable, adjusting the pillow behind his back, the blankets on the bed, just like Fugaku careful not to touch Sasuke, but her smile broke a little, when Sasuke turned his whole body away from her, arms tightening around Naruto, face pressed against Naruto’s shoulder, a hoarse murmur against Naruto’s neck the only words he would say:

 

“…Itachi’s not here.”

 

Naruto stayed like that for a while, just holding Sasuke, not really sure what to do, because everything had happened so fast, and he was still trying to process it with the backdrop of Sasuke’s ragged breathing against the steady, electronic hum from the small machine beside Sasuke’s bed.

 

The rest of the room was quiet, Mikoto and Fugaku sharing the sofa, sitting close, almost leaning against each other, but a little space still between them.

 

One of the nurses came back, stopping at a careful distance away from the bed, asked Sasuke if it was okay to take his vital signs.  Sasuke started shaking his head, tightening his grip on Naruto’s shirt started trembling, breathing too fast again, so Naruto took his hand, told it him wouldn’t take long, squeezed Sasuke’s fingers and told him it was just to make sure he was okay.

 

With a bio-scanner, it was over in a few seconds, a beep signalling the live update of Sasuke’s records, but it took a little longer to get Sasuke to calm down again, while the nurse spoke quietly to Fugaku, when Mikoto asked Sasuke if he was hungry or thirsty, if he wanted her to get him something to eat or drink.

 

Sasuke shook his head no, still clinging to Naruto, trying to get even closer to him, starting to shake again, so Naruto started to talk about his day at school, the things they were learning in class, how he almost got in trouble for a prank the he tried to pull in the cafeteria, on and on let himself ramble until Sasuke finally calmed down enough to fall asleep.

 

After a few more minutes, Naruto started to nod off, too.

 

The next time he woke up, Sasuke was still asleep, still hadn’t let go of him, the steady hum of the machine by Sasuke’s bed drawing his attention as he blinked, taking in the clean hospital smell, his eyes bleary from what felt like a short nap.

 

He saw Mikoto sitting in one of the plush chairs pulled close to the bed.  She greeted him with a soft smile, letting him know he hadn’t slept long; it wasn’t late yet, only a little after six, and she’d already let his parents know he was still at the hospital.

 

Fugaku was sitting on the sofa, head lowered, hunched over, gazing into the mug he was holding with both hands, a mug still full with what looked and smelled like coffee, and had probably already gone cold.

 

There was a low buzzing noise from phone placed on the cushion next to him, and he excused himself with a polite nod, picking up the phone and carrying the mug full of coffee with him, as he stepped out into the hall.

 

Naruto looked down, watching the small movements from the rise and fall of Sasuke’s chest, hand fiddling with the unfamiliar blankets draped over them both.  “…I didn’t mean to do it.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Sorry for what?”

 

“Last year, that day in school, when I touched Sasuke, and he—”

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Naruto.  No one thinks that of you, so please don’t think it of yourself.”

 

He raised his head, looking to Mikoto, but she was looking at Sasuke, her hand near Sasuke’s forehead, almost reaching to push Sasuke’s hair away from his face, hesitating, not allowing herself to touch him, but then Sasuke flinched, turning his head away from her, unconsciously leaning closer to Naruto.

 

Pulling her hand away, she laughed a little, gave Naruto another tired smile, but this time with sad eyes, Sasuke’s eyes.

 

More so now than then, he couldn’t imagine what that had to be like as a parent, Mikoto having to hold herself back, not being able to reach out to comfort her own child without causing Sasuke pain.

 

(Later on, she’d explain to him that it was because Sasuke didn’t have normal shields like other magic users.

 

Normally, shields were an involuntary response, reflexive like breathing, some inherently stronger than others, but overall they were there to filter outside emotions from other magic users, usually developing alongside magical ability.

 

Sasuke didn’t have that.  He had to learn how to build those kinds of emotional barriers with nothing to fall back on.  And since the default state of his empathy was strong enough to bypass everyone else’s shields, it would make any kind of emotion overwhelming for him, positive ones, too.

 

Why Sasuke being around him and Itachi seemed to be the exception, Mikoto couldn’t explain that, but when Sasuke flinched from her, it was because he could still feel her emotions, despite the strength of her shields.)

 

He could still see it then, though, how much it hurt her having to restrain herself, wanting to reach out to touch Sasuke, and not being able to because she knew it would hurt him.  While he might not have been able to fully understand it at the time, even kids his age could still pick up that kind of longing, and even without his level of sensitivity, the way she kept watching Sasuke, that was all he had to see.

 

Because Sasuke wouldn’t let his own mom touch him, but as soon as Naruto was within reach, suddenly, Sasuke was okay.

 

Squeezing the blanket, he swallowed hard, lowering his head, looking back down at Sasuke curled up against him.  “But I—”

 

A hand placed soft against the side of Naruto’s face, gently, Mikoto raised his head, waiting for him to meet her eyes, because she wasn’t looking at Sasuke anymore.  She was looking at him.

 

“I’ve known adults who wouldn’t do the kinds of things you don’t hesitate to do, adults who aren’t anywhere near as selfless as you, Naruto.  You’re only nine, and you’ve already grown to be such an amazing little boy.

 

“Your mother and I, we’ve always wanted you and Sasuke to become friends, before Sasuke was even born.  And more than ever, I’m so… so grateful Sasuke has someone like you beside him, someone in his life he can look up to, and someone who cares for him as deeply as you do.

 

“So please don’t be sorry.  Please don’t think that what’s happening to Sasuke is because of anything you did, Naruto.  It’s because of you that Sasuke’s been able to get through this.  It’s because you’re Sasuke’s friend.  No one could ask anything more from you, so there’s no reason you should hold your head down.

 

“Being Sasuke’s friend, you never have to apologise for that.”

 

He gave a slight nod that Mikoto returned with a kind smile, as she gently wiped away his tears, the way his mom still did sometimes, because Mikoto had always been like another mom to him, had always treated him like another son.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to believe her, but as a kid, beyond wanting to help Sasuke because Sasuke was his friend, knowing he could calm Sasuke like that, something not even the adults around them could do, the heaviness of the sudden sense of responsibility he felt for Sasuke, a responsibility that had literally fallen in his lap.

 

He knew that had to mean something, but…

 

“Sometimes,” Mikoto said softly, “things just happen in life, situations we can’t always prevent, because it’s not always a matter of fault.  What matters is how we choose to respond to those unexpected things, because those are also the situations that determine who we truly are in life.

 

“Sasuke having the kind of magic he does, that’s just one of those unexpected things.  And I know it can seem a little scary at this age, when the world seems to be changing too fast, and you’re just beginning to learn who you are, but it was never your fault, Naruto.

 

“None of this is your fault, okay?”

 

With a sniff, he gave her another small nod, this time paired with a watery smile, relaxing into the warmth of her hand still laid gentle over his cheek, taking from her the comfort she couldn’t give Sasuke, but was just as willing to give him.

 

“…okay.”

 

He took her words to heart, probably not in the way she intended, but, from then on, the promise he’d already made to take care of Sasuke, he started to take it seriously.

 

If something was wrong, and he had the ability make the situation better, it only made sense that he should.  His parents taught him that, to help other people, that he shouldn’t stand by and do nothing.

 

But even though everyone else knew being around him was good for Sasuke, although they encouraged him, nobody tried to push it on him, like scheduling regular times for him to visit, or taking him out of school whenever Sasuke had an empathetic attack.  He went to see Sasuke because he wanted to, not because anyone tried to force him to.  If anything, no one wanted him to feel obligated to spend time with Sasuke, because he was just a kid; the need to protect Sasuke that grew during that time, admittedly, some of it was self-induced by his own sense of guilt.

 

At the most, his parents would be a little more lenient than they usually were, compared to what they allowed him to do with his other friends, or when it came to school events.  With Sasuke, they sometimes let him stay up past curfew, those days the hospital staff allowed him to see Sasuke outside normal visiting hours, didn’t mind helping him do things for Sasuke, or helping him buy things he learned Sasuke liked.

 

Realising the kind of impact he had on Sasuke, if Itachi couldn’t always be there, Naruto was going to make sure Sasuke had at least someone.

 

But he really did like spending time with Sasuke, and around him Sasuke could be some kind of normal.  Sasuke didn’t have to worry about his empathy being set off, and he could still talk about his sessions with Iyashi, things he was learning about his life magic, how it worked, and the abilities that came with it, like being able to sense life signatures, in the same way other magic users could sense magical signatures, eventually becoming good enough to sense Naruto all the way down in the reception area.

 

And as he began to learn about all the things being a life user meant he couldn’t do, more and more he liked to listen to all the things Naruto was still able to.  He’d ask about Naruto’s day, all the things Naruto got to do in school, all the friends Naruto made, all the places Naruto got to see, this entire life Naruto had outside of him.

 

As bad as Sasuke is now, he used to tease Naruto then, too, about little things he knew that Naruto didn’t, obscure things he learned from studying on his own, whether it had to do with magic or regular subjects in school, especially liked to tease Naruto when it came to correcting his homework.

 

He used to stand on the balls of his feet sometimes, steadying himself with a gloved hand over Naruto’s shoulder, his other hand reaching above Naruto’s face, with a closed fist gently knocking on the top of Naruto’s head.

 

_“There’s no point in helping you anymore, so I don’t know why you keep asking me, Naruto.”_

 

_“Because you’re eight, and I’m nine.  That’s why.”_

 

_“I know you’re older than me, but it still sounds like nothing’s in there.”_

_“Hey, quit it—knock it off already.  Me being older than you means you’re always supposed to listen to me, okay.  Even Itachi said so.”_

_“I know he did.  That’s what everyone always says.”_

_“Because it’s important.  Plus, I’m taller than you.  That has to count, too.  And just because being around me is quiet for you, doesn’t suddenly make my head empty.”_

_“But it does.  Even when we’re this close, that’s why being around you never hurts, because there’s never anything up there.  I’ll show you again.”_

_“Didn’t I already say to stop hi—you’re supposed to listen to me, remember, so don’t smile at me like that.  It’s not funny.  Me being older means you’re not supposed to make fun of me, either, you know.”_

_“Well, no.  If it was important, I would’ve remembered if anyone ever said that.”_

_“…how come you don’t act this way around Itachi?  What makes him any different than me?”_

_“Because he’s my brother, Naruto.  And my brother isn’t the one who keeps asking me to help him with his homework all the time.”_

 

And back then, the way Sasuke used to look at him sometimes, waiting for him by the door, when he’d turn his head away at first, trying not to be obvious about his excitement to see Naruto, trying to hide his smile, but when he turned back around the look in his eyes that just lit up his entire face, like Naruto coming by was the highlight of his day, and maybe it was, because while Sasuke might’ve been allowed to leave his room, he wasn’t allowed to leave the ward.

 

Back then, when the world didn’t seem so big between the two of them, when Sasuke used to come to him for anything, when just holding Sasuke was enough to make him feel better, when simply being around Sasuke was enough to make Sasuke believe everything was going to be okay.

 

But sitting here in this cave, that Sasuke’s even letting himself be held like this, letting Naruto do the same thing he’s always done, that he’s always tried to do for Sasuke, now he just feels so incredibly small.

 

“…even if you did save Shisui, do you really think Itachi could’ve handled losing you that day?” 

 

Sasuke doesn’t answer, but he turns his head away from Naruto’s right arm, eyes still dark, watching the fire.

 

“Because that’s what it would’ve taken, right?  And Itachi, that guy, if anything ever happened to you, Sasuke, _anything_ , I don’t think your brother could…

 

“And what about the rest of us, huh?”

 

“Not just Itachi.  But your parents.  The rest of your family.  My parents.  What about everybody else back home?

 

“Sakura, she—if anything happened to either of us, you know how bad that’d hurt her.  And Tenten, she already lost both her parents, her entire family.  With how close you two are, she really does depend on you.

 

“Even an unemotional guy like Iyashi, he’s known you for years.  Without you, who’s going to keep him from getting bored?  And even Sai, as much as he gets on everyone’s nerves, he wouldn’t have anybody who’d be forced to put up with him anymore.  So many people who—

 

“I know you feel like you’re alone, like nobody knows what you’re going through with your magic, and maybe we can’t understand, maybe we’ll never understand, but when you have people who can’t help but care about you, people whose lives you affect, that means you don’t have to go through it by yourself.  So, you have to remember that, too, okay.

 

“And if nobody else, Sasuke, if you can’t at least…

 

“…what about me?  What about—”

 

He knows Sasuke isn’t a bad person.  He knows that Sasuke doesn’t necessarily set out to do bad things. 

 

Sasuke has good intentions.  He really does.  He’s just not the best at making good decisions.  Kind of really bad at it, actually, especially when other people end up dragged into his poor decision-making skills; even considering how sheltered Sasuke’s been for so much of his life, he still lacks a pretty decent amount of self-awareness, and really isn’t as subtle as he wants to think he is.

 

Something that probably goes back to his magic, why he seems so careless sometimes, because it’s easy to see how much of that near blind faith can play a big part in why he’s not as cautious as he should be, and why there isn’t a lot that seems to scare him.  However much Sasuke worries about being seen as weak, despite all the seemingly impossible things he can do, at least on a subconscious level, he has to recognise how powerful he actually is. 

 

Of course, Naruto doesn’t think what Sasuke does is always out of self-pity, from not wanting to be seen as incapable of doing nearly anything just because of his magic and his empathy.  Although he gets that part of it, there are just some things Sasuke can’t do, and while there’s nothing to make him believe Sasuke would purposely do reckless things trying to drive him up the wall, when it comes to how Sasuke views the world around him, even though Naruto knows he doesn’t mean to, Sasuke can still be a little self-centred sometimes.

 

_“What’re you going to do the day your brother really does kill me?  Let me remind you, the things I’ve gotten in trouble for, eleven times out of ten, it actually was your fault.  So, if you’re not going to take responsibility now, are you even at least going to feel guilty when I’m gone?”_

_“Guilty for what?  When have I ever told Itachi anything was your fault?”_

_“See, that’s the thing.  You don’t have to.  You’re Itachi’s little brother.  You’ve never had to.  Especially now, since he knows we’re already in that kind of relationship, or at least we used to be, before he found out about it.  So, in his eyes, I’m always going to be the sordid pilot who corrupted his little brother, which means nothing can ever be your fault again.  The two us of being more than just really close friends, seriously, that changes_ everything _.”_

_“Not really.”_

_“Coming from the guy who’s never been on the receiving end of Uchiha Itachi’s killing intent, or a powered-up version of his sword, how do you figure that?”_

_“Because my brother knows you’re still Naruto.  You’re still you.  And being around you, I’ve always felt…”_

_“Felt what?”_

_“…as long as you’re still you, nothing’s really changed.”_

 

It’s something he’d already known without Sasuke having to put it into words, coming from a side of Sasuke he doesn’t always mind, because more than just being needed by someone, knowing Sasuke puts that much trust in him, actually feels that safe around him, it’s far from being the worst feeling in the world.

 

But it’s also the same side of Sasuke that makes him want to tear his hair out sometimes, because it seems like too often, more than not lately, Sasuke takes that sense of security for granted.

 

And, yeah, while he can admit he’d probably go crazy growing up under the same kinds of restrictions Sasuke’s had to deal with, some of them Sasuke might even have to live with for the rest of his life, most of those safeguards have been put there for a reason.  Completely going against them doesn’t help anyone, and it’s almost a slap in the face to all the people who’ve already given so much of their time and energy into the effort gone into keeping Sasuke safe.

 

Having the ship’s engines back online is great and all, but the diagnostic runs still aren’t finished, alongside the DP R-check that hasn’t even started yet, so now they’re going to be sitting pretty until someone finds them, hopefully Itachi and Juugo and not any potential unfriendlies, because Sasuke doesn’t even have the reserves to keep both of them cloaked with his shadow magic.

 

He knows Sasuke was just trying to help, and he can relate because he knows what it’s like to feel helpless, even more knows what it’s like to feel useless, but Sasuke doesn’t always think about the consequences, good or bad—not to himself, not to the people who care about him, who’ve been trying to protect him, or the kind of wide-reaching effect it’d have on the magic user community as a whole, and even outside of it.

 

So much has been changing within the last twenty years, and without question the timing of Sasuke appearing as a life user has been an important part of that.  That’s why there’s still so much interest in him, why a lot of the major players in the Alliance never had an issue trying to parade him around like some kind of token, but it’s the same type of thing Sasuke doesn’t always think about, those kinds of situations where he doesn’t always look ahead to the big picture.

 

“Where are you now?”

 

“…a two,” comes a soft murmur, as Sasuke closes his eyes.  “Almost back up to a three.”

 

Naruto sighs, fingers absently massaging the back of Sasuke’s neck.  Sasuke usually sits between a six and seven, and even reaching a four isn’t always an immediate red flag, just depending on the situation, but being at a two definitely explains what happened earlier.  “You’re a reckless bastard, you know that.”

 

“…how long?”

 

“That you’ve been out?”

 

Twenty-nine hours, thirty-six minutes, is the immediate tally in his mind, but it’s not what he tells Sasuke.

 

“A little over a day.”

 

If Sasuke’s bothered by the vague answer, or the fact he’s been out that long, he doesn’t let Naruto know.  “The engine systems are back online?”

 

Naruto can’t help the snort that comes out.  “I really don’t think I should answer that.”

 

Sasuke shifts a little, already on the verge of sleep, breathing finally back to normal.

 

Again, Naruto sighs. “The diagnostic programmes are working again.  That’ll take at least another six hours.  Maybe less, if we’re lucky.  Still have to wait on the DP R-check, which shouldn’t take too long, since everything’s back online now.  No problems so far.  I don’t know what you did, but…yeah.”

 

At this rate, the ship should be good to go within another twenty-four hours, assuming nothing else is wrong with it. Technically, they could still try to take off, as long as most of the critical systems are online, would probably break through the atmosphere, maybe even make it far enough to leave Barrah’s orbit, although travelling in space, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

 

That was ultimately the deciding factor in bringing Sasuke back to the cave.  Under this sort of time crunch, he made the best of the situation, going ahead with initiating a full diagnostic run on the ship, but in doing that, the ship wouldn’t be a stable environment for Sasuke.

 

More than just minimal life support functions and lack of controlled HVAC system features, there would be intermittent checks to the cooling capacity, and the ship would have to be kept cool, to prevent possible overheating; too much pressure fluctuation, to help detect any potential leaks; all the ships systems turning off and on while they were being tested.

 

The fact Sasuke had somehow managed not to damage the ship while moving it, or cause something to short-circuit, or even blow the ship up with them in it…

 

He still doesn’t know what Sasuke did, or how Sasuke even did it.  With so many things that could’ve gone wrong, it probably shouldn’t have turned out the way it did, but whatever it was keeping the engines from going, apparently, that fixed it.

 

It was like that secret door back at the prison.  Really, he’d been joking about the whole evil lair thing.  Sasuke finding that barely there impression of a lotus petal was freaky enough on its own, a little convenient, but when the mechanism Sasuke found revealed the door leading to a hidden lab, that seemed like way too much of a coincidence.

 

Not to mention that self-contained deflection system Sasuke managed to rig on the fly.  He doesn’t doubt Sasuke’s abilities, but it’s not a matter of Sasuke being smart enough, or whether it can be done.  It’s just very, very, highly unlikely.

 

Running into this kind of handy luck, in itself, it’s not necessarily a bad thing.  It’s just something that tends to happen around Sasuke, and it’s been happening a lot more lately.

 

Sometimes, things just…have a way of working themselves out, the types of things that can’t really be explained.

 

Sort of like…like it’s actually reality that seems to bend around Sasuke, or at least in favour towards him.  With magic, there’s a lot out there that doesn’t seem so impossible anymore.  With Sasuke’s life magic, though, there’re still some things that shouldn’t even seem probable.

 

More than likely, it’s related to how Sasuke’s Influence works.  Around people less likely to fall under Sasuke’s Influence, specifically people like him and Itachi, their parents, Iyashi, Sakura, for anyone really close to Sasuke, specifically magic users, it’s something that’s hard not to notice after a while.  Otherwise, it doesn’t really stand out.

 

And it’s not always the most obvious things, mostly just the little things that happen around Sasuke, the kinds of coincidences that could just as easily pass for luck, like a fluke here or there from carrying around a lucky coin, but things don’t always seem to add up, if someone starts to look at them a little too closely, when it turns into a more consistent pattern of uncommon occurrences.

 

Where it really started becoming more obvious, was after that incident on Gade II a year ago, before Sasuke was allowed to do a lot of things on his own.  It happened during a government-sponsored commerce event, something to do about trade negotiations with specific Federation sectors, which meant Naruto wasn’t obligated to go, but Mikoto was one of the featured guest speakers, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that Sasuke had travelled there with her.

 

Even more, Gade II wasn’t just neutral territory.  It was part of a neutralised zone.  Because of seemingly random territory lines, those kinds of events were held on places like Gade II all the time.  At least between the Alliance and the Federation, it was actually considered pretty safe.

 

But a year ago, that was when more and more of those rogue factions started cropping up, too.

 

Everything was fine at first.  In fact, it didn’t look like anything was going to go wrong.  The event was over.  People were beginning to take off, go home.  Sakura and her team were part of the security escort, sticking close to Sasuke.  All of a sudden, there was an ambush.

 

The rogue faction that headed the assault, their motives actually had nothing to do with Sasuke, or any part of the magic user community, and yet Sasuke was still caught in the middle of it.

 

Point blank, those guys were amateurs, and even then that was probably being a little too generous, but considering the sheer potential for things to go wrong, or even the fact that no one in that rogue group seemed to recognise Sasuke, despite having recognised Mikoto, it was lucky, very lucky, that nobody had actually gotten seriously hurt, apart from a few superficial wounds on both sides.

 

The way Sasuke told it, the whole thing seemed to have happened pretty quick, almost in-and-out, with Sakura’s team acting to take control of the situation, as soon as it started to go down.  After hearing more about it from Sakura, though, and just skimming through a copy of the report himself, he learned Sasuke had downplayed a lot of what actually happened, especially the part about being held hostage at gunpoint.

  
Apparently, Sasuke didn’t feel the need to fill him in on those kinds of particulars, not wanting to worry him, since he already knew nothing would happen.

 

For Sasuke, accidentally discovering he could take another person’s life force had taken higher priority than being held hostage at gunpoint, but it wasn’t like he told Naruto about that then, either.

 

And he still remembers seeing that lost, uncertainty on Sasuke’s face, remembers just being so angry that day, just so angry at Sasuke, if only to make up for how damn calm Sasuke still was about the whole thing, having to physically remove himself from the situation, forcing himself to ignore Sasuke’s attempts to reach out to him, because even though he knew realistically none of it was Sasuke’s fault, as angry as he was, he still couldn’t get it through to Sasuke’s head _why_.

 

_“Just…just give me some space, all right.  I really need some space right now.”_

_“Naruto, I wasn’t trying to—I don’t…”_

_“It’s not you.  Not all of it.  It’s me.  A lot of it’s me, so I’ll…you don’t need to worry about it—don’t worry about it.  I’ll find you later, okay.  I’m not going that far.  I promise.”_

_“…sure.”_

 

With Sasuke, it’s almost like there’s this complete disinterest for his own wellbeing; he’s way too trusting of his magic, way too secure in the belief that what comes naturally to him means everything else will naturally fall into place—and not just in Naruto’s opinion.  Sasuke can get annoyed about it all he wants, for all the times he does have to hear it from everybody else, too, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

 

Sasuke already doesn’t scare easy, but he has this real inconvenient habit of behaving indifferent during potentially threatening situations.  Normally, Naruto would hesitate to use the word passive to describe someone like Sasuke, but sometimes Sasuke, at least when it applies to his personal safety, sometimes it really does feel like he actually lacks the ability to fully grasp the seriousness of certain things.  He’s a curious person, anyway, but he’s stubborn, too, and sometimes the desire to learn more about his life magic, to see how things play out just because, overshadows even the most basic survival sense.

 

With the kind of power he’s packing, maybe he’s just not there yet, except it’d do so, so much for Naruto’s fraying nerves if Sasuke would at least just try not to paint himself as an easy target, or at least try to be a little more practical in situations that might draw even more attention to who he is and what he can do.

 

Better yet, instead of jumping headfirst into the kinds of situations that would put his life in danger, it’d be great if he’d actively try to avoid them altogether.

 

After the incident on Gade II, the biggest sign, the most obvious sign, before now and the absolute bender of a mindfuck that _is_ Barrah, was when Sasuke snuck on board Kakashi’s ship.

 

Sasuke said it was just his Influence, but it had to have been more than that.  All those people he went past and not a single person noticed Sasuke was even there, including a high level magic user like Kakashi.  The only reason Naruto even found Sasuke was because he happened to be scheduled for pick up, after spending a week on Syrdia.

 

Not even that long after the _Lazulum_ docked, he’d been able to sense Sasuke’s magical signature.  Before he even had to step foot near the port, he just _knew_ Sasuke was somewhere on that ship.  And with no mention about Sasuke he was aware of, on or off the record, he also knew there was no good reason whatsoever Sasuke should’ve been on Syrdia.

 

Being able to sense Sasuke’s magical signature, though, he didn’t want to jump to conclusions, before taking the time to assess the situation, and in the event something really was wrong, he didn’t want to give anything away, because when it involved Sasuke, without question Naruto knew he was on that unofficial list of people who needed to be brought in the know. 

 

He knew Kakashi was on it, too.

 

And since he hadn’t heard anything from Kakashi about Sasuke, until he could find Sasuke himself, it was still situation normal.

 

He didn’t know what to expect going in, but how the hell Sasuke even managed to get past all the safety checks and protocols on a security level three ship, without anyone noticing, without any of the ship’s high-tech sensors picking up on him, and especially without having to use his shadow magic—there was just no way.

 

It was hard enough for Naruto to come up with a believable explanation to get Kakashi out of his office.  Fortunately, just mentioning Sasuke at least got Kakashi a little more interested, but trying to convince Kakashi that Sasuke was actually there in Cargo Bay Four, standing right in front of them, no wonder why Kakashi kept treating him like he’d finally lost it; despite knowing about Sasuke’s Influence, Kakashi didn’t know about Sasuke’s elemental magic, Sasuke’s shadow magic, so that was probably part of the reason it was so hard for Kakashi to believe Sasuke was there.

 

Other than him and Kakashi, no one off or on the _Lazulum_ had realised what happened.  Most of the trainees that were on the ship probably wouldn’t have believed it, anyway, even knowing who Sasuke was, because even Kakashi had a hard time wrapping his mind around it.  Either way, it couldn’t get out.  And it wouldn’t.  Aside from the tiniest, confidential paper trail, there was no record of Sasuke ever being on the _Lazulum,_ or leaving the base.

 

All seemingly tied to something more than Sasuke’s Influence, after a series of coincidences, nothing about it can be coincidental.

 

Of course, Mikoto and Fugaku already know.  His parents know, too, probably a lot more about it than they’re telling him.  And Itachi, these days, what doesn’t Itachi know?

 

It just became one of those things he’s not allowed to talk about with Sasuke, or at least not yet.  And while he doesn’t feel comfortable keeping something like this from Sasuke, really, he isn’t sure how he’d even bring it up in a conversation, because the thing is, Sasuke doesn’t seem to pay that much attention to it.

 

He kind of hinted to it back at the prison.  Sasuke said he didn’t know what happened, didn’t seem all too bothered by it, the implications behind discovering a near invisible imprint that led them to a secret door, an imprint Naruto still can’t be sure was even there before Sasuke said something about it, although none of it seemed to matter compared to the messed up shit they’d actually found behind that door.

 

He tried to hint at it again the day before yesterday, back at the ship.  He knows Sasuke started studying programming, because it’s a way for him to be around ships, really getting into the software aspect of things, but what he did with the deflection shields, even it if it was smack dab in the realm of possibility, being able to repurpose that much code so quickly, Sasuke didn’t think much of it.

 

Kyuubi isn’t too concerned about it.  Last time Naruto asked, Kyuubi just shrugged it off as part of Sasuke’s life magic ( _It’s what Sachi does_ ), curled himself up beneath his tails with an annoyed huff, and told Naruto not to bother him anymore with observations about too obvious things.

 

Grudgingly, Kyuubi also once said he sometimes thinks of Naruto as the only force standing in between him and Sasuke.  That’s a scary amount of power to have over anyone, Kyuubi or not, but Sasuke always says it’s hard for him to see Naruto and Kyuubi as separate entities; rather, he sees them as a whole composed of complementary halves, as if all the different parts of them were simply made to fit.

 

That isn’t to say he’s afraid of Sasuke, though, or even Sasuke’s life magic, because that’s something else entirely.  He’s never been scared of Sasuke, just like Sasuke’s never been scared of him, even after finding out about Kyuubi.

 

He might not be able to trust Sasuke to always take care of himself, but he’s always trusted Sasuke not to hurt him or Kyuubi.

 

If anything, Sasuke goes overboard trying to do the opposite.  While he does have the ability to take someone else’s life force, it’s giving his own to heal that comes instinctual for Sasuke.  The fact he’s so quick to rely on his life magic, even when he could be using elemental magic, that’s always been the biggest problem with him, so, really, Naruto’s a little more concerned about Sasuke knocking himself out again while needlessly trying to do something that doesn’t need to be done, rather than accidentally offing anyone without knowing it.

 

There was a time, a very long period of time, when Sasuke was a lot less aware of the fact he couldn’t just go around using his healing magic out in the open, no matter how many times he liked to claim it just felt natural to do, because anyone could’ve been watching.  Looking back, it could’ve been worse than it actually was, a lot worse, but Mikoto and Fugaku had always tried to be careful about who they allowed around Sasuke.

 

What most people would call lack of self-preservation skills, Sasuke just called that instinct.  Any damage he could sense in someone’s life force, or in any living organism (Naruto’s steadily growing collection of plants included), he was drawn to that, and what felt natural for him to do, apparently, was to fix it.

 

After Shisui’s death, it started off with mostly small things, like paper cuts and light bruises, headaches or faint scratches, the kind of stuff that just goes away with time and most people usually left alone, but Sasuke wouldn’t hesitate, would let his magic take over, even knowing it meant he’d be draining his own life force, because he claimed it was easier for him to give in.

 

Before, during those first few years Sasuke was dealing with his life magic, every time Naruto tried to ask Sasuke about it, why he’d be so stupid to waste his life force on him for stuff like that, especially when Kyuubi usually took care of it, Sasuke would always say the same thing, while giving him the same funny look, like Naruto was the one missing something important he should’ve already known.

 

_“Because.”_

 

_“Saying because doesn’t tell me anything.  That’s not really an answer.”_

_“No, it’s just an answer you don’t like.  Asking me over and over again isn’t going to change that, Naruto.  I keep telling you.  It’s because that’s just what my magic does.”_

 

_“Why?  I mean, even though I have Kyuubi, even when I don’t need it, why do you still…”_

 

_“You were hurt.”_

 

Nobody realised just how strong that instinct was, or how hard it was for him to resist, until Sasuke was having one of his rougher days, rarer the more time passed, but still the kind that wouldn’t let him relax around anyone without Itachi or Naruto.

 

Already a few months into having life magic, it happened after he’d fallen asleep on Itachi, while Itachi was moving him from the chair to lay him on the bed.  His hands started reaching for Itachi’s face, searching for Itachi’s eyes.  Because he couldn’t be sure what Sasuke was doing, because there was still so little anyone knew about Sasuke’s life magic, and he was worried about any potential backlash for Sasuke, Itachi simply let it happen.

 

After that, Sasuke didn’t wake up for two days, didn’t remember doing anything to Itachi’s eyes, his blind reach for Itachi’s face, but it turned out Itachi had a rare genetic disorder that would’ve gradually caused him to lose his sight and, later on, eventually would’ve taken his life.

 

Modern medicine could only do so much.  As far as it’s come in the last hundred years, it’s not perfect.  Diseases don’t always get screened in time.  Not every sickness can be cured.  But Sasuke had somehow known there was something seriously wrong with his brother—and fixed it in his sleep.

 

Having that kind of power, the potential to play god without so much as a second thought, without even realising it, unconsciously being able to influence something like that, long before Sasuke knew about his ability to take someone’s life force, it’s as much about protecting Sasuke from himself, as it is protecting Sasuke from people who would try to take advantage of him for the things he can do, and if that kind of power ever fell to the wrong person…

 

But since he only sees it as his magic, something that simply _is_ because of how naturally it comes to him, despite everything he’s capable of doing now, might be able to do in the future, Sasuke just…

 

He still doesn’t get it.

 

Yet even with Sasuke’s too credulous nature, and that almost kind of casual attitude towards his magic, in spite of his own frustrations, Naruto doesn’t blame him entirely for it.

 

Because even now, when he’s sleeping, Sasuke’s reaching out with his empathy trying to comfort him, how easily he can do that, trying to put Naruto at ease.  It’s weird in a way, how being exposed to Naruto’s emotions doesn’t necessarily hurt him, but, at the same time, he’s somehow able to feed off them, or maybe it’s better to say he’s able to respond to what Naruto’s feeling, especially whenever he feels like there’s something bothering Naruto.

 

Maybe having Kyuubi has something to do with it, why Sasuke reacts that much stronger to him than most people, but it’s still one of those things Sasuke really can’t help, even after all those sessions with Iyashi behind him, something he’s probably been doing ever since he got his empathy.  It’s just that Naruto’s one of the few who can actually sense when Sasuke’s doing it.

 

And he’s used to Sasuke doing it.  Between them, it’s normal.  And, despite his reservations about why Sasuke does it, it’s a nice feeling, too.  That kind of instinctual closeness between magic users, there’s already something about it, but with Sasuke’s empathy, this really soothing, gentle sort of pull at the edge of his consciousness, it’s a lot easier to sink into, but something he can still push to the back of his mind if he wants to.

 

He asked Itachi about it before, why he thought Sasuke’s empathy responded to people that way, since Itachi’s the only other person who’s never been affected by Sasuke’s Influence.

 

He’s always been pretty open with Itachi, comfortable talking to him, just to let things out; after finding out about his relationship with Sasuke, Itachi wasn’t exactly all that thrilled, but it hasn’t stopped Naruto from being able to confide in Itachi, and, the occasional, extremely thinly veiled threat aside (it’s Itachi’s sense of humour, really), he knows deep down, somewhere, way down there, Itachi appreciates they’re still able to have those kinds of conversations, too.

 

_“Whether it’s merely another aspect of Sasuke’s empathy, or a consequence solely on the basis of his personality, I couldn’t even begin to tell you, Naruto.”_

_“That’s, um…that’s, uh, not the kind of answer I was hoping to hear.”_

_“And yet it’s still true.  At this stage, though, does it really matter so much to you?”_

_“This coming from the same unreasonable guy who still keeps tabs on that one photographer who tried to get too close to Sasuke five years ago.”_

_“I’d be remiss to claim otherwise.”_

_“It’s just…I guess, when Sasuke uses his empathy like that, sometimes, it feels like I’m…”_

_“Like you’re taking advantage of him.”_

_“Yeah, that’s…that’s what I was trying not to say.”_

_“Has it always upset you?”_

_“Well, yeah.  Of course it has.  All the things he can do for other people, he’s the one who doesn’t get anything out of it.  But I don’t know how to fix it because I can’t do any of that stuff for him, either—or maybe I’m just not doing enough.  I already know how his magic’s supposed to work.  He’s already told me too many times as it is, but that’s not the point.  It just…it doesn’t seem fair.”_

_“Nowhere does it say life has to be.”_

_“…doesn’t mean it shouldn’t.”_

_“Are you implying you’d try to take advantage of my little brother, Uzumaki?”_

_“Tch.  Yeah, right, Itachi.  Like that’s even a question.”_

_“…I suppose not.”_

_“You really, really don’t have to sound so disappointed, you know.  Seriously.  But, I mean, Sasuke’s your brother.  You know how bad it can get for him.  And even though he’s come a long way with his life magic, with his empathy, what if the wrong person gets to him?  Knowing what that could do to him, just thinking about how easy it’d be to—how do you even deal with something like that?”_

_“I’m paranoid.  Or so you like to claim.”_

_“I don’t appreciate the way you keep trying to turn me into a less certifiable version of you.”_

_“To be honest with you, there are many things that keep me awake at night.  Life magic, with so little that’s definitively known, much less concerning the effect it seems to have on Sasuke’s empathy, unfortunately, for the time being, there still isn’t very much I can say.  I can only do what I feel is best for Sasuke, to prepare him for situations that may fall beyond his control._

_“It’s the same for you, Naruto.  With the onset of maturity comes a greater sense of responsibility.  And there will come a point in time I won’t be there.  However, until that time comes, I’ll continue to do my part, and teach you both to the best of my ability.”_

_“…that sounds more cryptic than usual.  And a little too ominous.”_

_“A little, perhaps.  Although the way you feel about Sasuke using his empathy, in particular how he responds to your emotions, if you can understand it’s something he willingly chooses to do for you, that it’s become a method to help him cope with the realities presented to him and his uncertainties regarding where he stands in life, under those circumstances, is there a reason it should still bother you?”_

_“Because I can’t help it.  That’s the kind of thing I worry about.  That’s why it really starts to get to me.  Even when he probably shouldn’t, Sasuke just brushes it off, keeps telling me it’s nothing, and I’m not okay with that._

_“I know things can’t go back to the way they used to be.  And that I can’t just go along with what Sasuke wants to do, just to make him feel better, especially not when I know the things I do now.  I’m not saying he lets me walk over him or anything, but I still don’t want him to think there are certain things he feels like he has to accept, just because it’s_ me _.”_

_“Then, if that’s truly the case, Naruto, while it may not be the answer you were hoping to hear, it may be the only answer you need.”_

 

Let it be known, he does not confide in Itachi for the sake of his own sanity, never mind trying to get any straightforward advice from an already too cryptic guy, but Itachi’s the only other person who actually _gets_ it.

 

Itachi knows how to put into words all those things it’s hard for Naruto to sometimes put across, because he knows what it’s like to have that borderline compliance from someone like Sasuke.  He’s already gone through that disturbing realisation of how much Sasuke’s come to depend on him as an emotional anchor for his empathy.

 

But Itachi doesn’t baby his words, either, not even to Sasuke.  And while Naruto knows his issues with Sasuke’s empathy are his own personal hang-ups, it’s the principle of it, how one-sided it seems, despite just being how Sasuke’s empathy works, that makes him so uncomfortable.

 

Case in point, Sasuke had been pissed earlier, yeah, about his life magic being manipulated to take instead of give, which Naruto understands now, but as soon as he was able to break Sasuke out of that trance, he was holding Sasuke like they were kids again, like it was just the aftermath of one of Sasuke’s really bad episodes, because if it wasn’t Itachi, Naruto was the one Sasuke would turn to.

 

As much as he likes to joke about that weird biological tic Sasuke has, how Sasuke isn’t always honest about expressing how he feels, saying one thing only to end up doing another, the way Sasuke reaches out with his empathy, that’s always been consistent.

 

Sometimes, it’s just a way to release pent-up energy.  For all magic users, over time, magical energy can build up if it’s been left idle for too long.  The difference with Sasuke’s life magic is, because it’s so closely tied to his specific type of empathy, releasing magical energy can also bring that calming effect on the people around him, even non-magic users.

 

It’s like another outlet for his healing magic.  That’s all it really is, like all the times Sasuke’s reached out to hold his hand.  Whenever the use of his empathy is unintentional, though, the intensity of it just depends on Sasuke’s sensitivity at the time.

 

Still, Sasuke doesn’t seem to think twice when he does it.  Like with everything else, it’s another instance of Sasuke pulling on his life magic instead of his elemental magic because it’s more natural for him to release energy through his empathy, so Naruto just tries not to let it bother him so much. 

 

Regardless of how he feels on Sasuke’s behalf, he actually doesn’t mind the act itself, so it wouldn’t be fair to ask Sasuke to stop doing it, when he can still recognise that there’s a deeper meaning behind why Sasuke does it at all.

 

It’s not hard to piece together that Sasuke’s been worried about him and Itachi, Juugo, too, and how much being separated from Itachi didn’t help, but he still didn’t realise how badly Sasuke had been affected by the split, to the point where he’d be desperate enough to try to power an entire ship.

 

Between him and Itachi, he knows how important the two of them are to Sasuke.  But being in a situation like this, he can admit it’s still kind of a tossup at this point, but although Itachi’s survived much worse, Naruto’s not that far behind.  He knows Sasuke logically understands that, especially with all the duty tours Itachi’s taken, except it’s probably different in this case, because this time Sasuke has direct exposure to the type of situation Itachi’s already gone through before. 

 

That’s what he means by Sasuke not being trained for this sort of thing.  More than just the physical aspect of field training, it’s also the mental preparation that comes along with it, what it takes to be able to calmly make those kinds of split-second decisions in potentially life or death scenarios, how to survive in different kinds of environments, having to constantly be on guard in unfamiliar territory, and coping with the kind of stress it can put on a person, on both their mind and body.

 

Although he never used to be such a light sleeper, even before he completed his first round of mandatory field training, as soon as he entered the Academy, he had to start learning how to keep up with required basic training and combat drills, alongside his regular academic classes, on fewer hours of sleep; but those kinds of things can’t be learned in a day, and some people just don’t cut it.

 

Until now, Sasuke’s only dealt with hypothetical situations, things he’s been told second-hand in the event, just in case, or picked up reading through reports or manuals.  Sasuke’s never been through this kind of situation before.  For all intents and purposes, he’s never been alone off world.  He’s always been relatively safe, despite the knack he seems to have for finding himself in places he shouldn’t be.

 

Given the situation they’re currently in…

 

It’s one thing for Sasuke to be worried about him, or for him to pick up on that by the way Sasuke acts, but that he was actually able to _feel_ how scared Sasuke was, that Sasuke had been that afraid of losing him—the same kind of fear he still remembers from Sasuke’s empathetic attacks, Sasuke close to hyperventilating, trembling and refusing to let him go.

 

He’s seen how far Sasuke’s willing to go for him, without hesitation giving up his own life force over something as meaningless as a paper cut, without even stopping to think almost killing himself trying to save him, and to have any kind of influence over someone with Sasuke’s magic, never mind someone whose magic is so highly attuned to his empathy, how much further Sasuke might actually go for his sake…

 

And that’s just him, not even getting into Itachi, or any one of the very few people Sasuke holds close to him.

 

He always thought it was the other way around, that Sasuke’s ability to calm him was a sort of failsafe, because it always seemed that way during those times when he struggled to contain Kyuubi’s magic, when he’d be so close to letting his emotions consume him, but lately he’s starting to think that ability’s just a side effect of something else and maybe never truly was the case.

 

Maybe that’s what Kyuubi really meant, about Naruto being his only line of defence against Sasuke’s life magic, what he’s instinctively always known even before the day he and Sasuke met.

 

His parents must have figured it out, too.  They had to have known.  Of course, Sasuke’s parents, too, and Itachi.  But having that kind of insight, being able to see the potential of Sasuke’s life magic even back then, he wonders if maybe that became part of the reason why everyone was so supportive of their friendship.

 

Either way, it doesn’t make a difference.  The way they were pushed together, whether it was intentional or not, it won’t change anything between them, or how he feels about Sasuke, because ultimately it still means he was trusted enough to take care of him, just a lot more than he first assumed.

 

“…I’m sorry.”

 

Naruto blinks at the quiet murmur, wondering if he woke Sasuke.  Although his shields are up, as sensitive as Sasuke probably still is right now, it doesn’t matter that much if Sasuke’s barriers aren’t actively blocking him out, but when he looks down, Sasuke’s still sleeping.

 

“Yeah.”

 

With a heavy sigh, he tilts his head back against the wall, finally able to take a moment for himself.  He doesn’t know how long he stays there, not moving, not waiting for anything, just trying not to let himself think.

 

Trying not to remember how many times Sasuke stopped breathing, how many times he thought he almost lost Sasuke, instead just keeps holding Sasuke close, for Sasuke’s sake as much as his own, because for all those assurances he’s tried to give Sasuke before, it was never just Sasuke he was trying to convince.

 

Sorry can mean a lot of things, can be said for a lot of reasons.  He wants to believe Sasuke.  He really does.

 

Right now, though…right now, he doesn’t think he can.

 

But he’ll let Sasuke sleep for a little while longer, let him rest some more before waking him to make sure he stays hydrated, maybe get him to eat something; Sasuke’s warm enough now, still far from ideal, but it seems like his magic’s finally starting to kick in.

 

With a yawn, he shifts, in vain trying to get more comfortable.  Sitting up all night against this rock, he knows his back’s going to kill him later on, but he’ll worry about that then.  For now, he’ll just let himself stay like this, listening to Sasuke’s breathing that still sounds too soft, too distant, but at least more present, still there.

 

He still has another hour before he has to check in with Itachi again, and he can check his PCD, too, for the status of the ship.  That’s enough time for a quick nap.

 

Until then, he’ll let Sasuke sleep.  It’ll be okay to let Sasuke sleep.  Until then, it’ll be okay if he finally lets himself close his eyes.

 

“…me, too.”


	7. Interlude: Windmills

And Sasuke  _breathes_.

 

He forces his eyes to stay open as his chest heaves, fingers trembling against nearly hollow cheeks, mouth pressed hard to lips motionless against his own.

 

The rasp of Naruto’s name comes heavy from the back of his throat, and he struggles to pull himself away, struggles to hold still the fingers that won’t stop trembling, another murmur caught dry on his tongue, because this isn’t—Naruto can’t—

 

“Sasuke,  _you bastard_ , the hell you’d do that for?!”

 

“You weren’t breathing, you idiot!”

 

“What do you mean I wasn’t breathing?!  Weren’t we kissing just now?!”

 

“Naruto, you—”  Sasuke takes in a harsh breath, suddenly drained.  His body deflates, and he shuts his eyes, keeps them closed too tight with the release of a slow exhale, before he can allow himself to look at Naruto again.  “I thought you…”

 

“You thought I was…oh.”

 

“Yeah.”  Sasuke moves back, no longer on top of Naruto.  He folds his legs on the bed, knee bumping against Naruto’s calf.

 

“Still, doesn’t mean you had to hit me like that,” Naruto murmurs, hand held gingerly against the side of his face.  “With how hard you hit, you could’ve knocked something loose.”

 

“What part of you weren’t breathing,” Sasuke says, deliberately slow, “do you not understand.”

 

“That’s what I’m telling you.”  Propped by his elbows, Naruto begins to sit up.  He shuffles on the bed, throwing his legs over the edge of it.  “I never stopped breathing.  I couldn’t have.”

 

“I know what I saw.”

 

“Well, I’m telling you.  I wasn’t out of it.  Your eyes did the whole creepy glowy thing, where they went all white, like when you’re healing someone.  Except it didn’t feel like that at first.  It was something different, because you’ve never done that with me before.  But then it…”

 

Sasuke gives Naruto a sharp look.  “What?”

 

“Then it started to feel good.  I mean,  _really_  good.”

 

“That’s your reaction.  I tell you I thought you stopped breathing.  You just tell me it felt good.”

 

“Seriously, I was thoughtful enough to buy the nice condoms and everything.”  Naruto lets his body sag a little, leaning closer to let his chin rest on Sasuke’s shoulder.  “Way to kill the mood.”

 

“There is no mood.  I almost killed you.”

 

“I already told you it wasn’t like that, didn’t I?” 

 

“I’m being serious, Naruto.”

 

“Yeah, and I am, too.”  Naruto shifts closer to Sasuke, sitting up a little straighter.  “Because that something different I mentioned, how come you never told me your life magic works the other way, huh?  We know each other, Sasuke.  I  _know_  you.

 

“And trying to hide something this big,” he grits out, voice beginning to rise, “when you know the kinds of people who are watching us, the same kinds of people waiting to catch you with your guard down, waiting for me or Itachi or our parents to slip up, any reason to get their—”

 

“You know better than to try to guilt trip me with that crap,” Sasuke cuts in, curt, too quiet, jarringly calm against Naruto’s near shouting.  “I didn’t know about it, either.  Not until recently.”

 

“Recently?”

 

“That incident two months ago, with the rogue plants who tried to ambush Sakura’s team at the dock on Gade II, I figured out what happened.”

 

“Yeah, because Gade II is supposed to be neutral territory.”  Naruto scoffs.  “But Sakura’s team detained him.  You didn’t kill him.”

 

“I felt it, though.  It wasn’t so much then, not enough that I couldn’t pass it off as some kind of fluke.  But later I realised…”

 

Naruto glances at the small space between them, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his mouth at the sight of his hand no longer tightly gripping the sheets.  “…then how come you didn’t tell me, Sasuke?”

 

“Get over yourself.  Since when am I supposed to tell you everything?”

 

“Uh, since forever.  I tell you everything, don’t I?”

 

“No, Naruto.  You don’t.”

 

More so than the lack of hesitation, it’s the passive tone of Sasuke’s voice that makes Naruto flinch.  “I tell you what I can.  What I’m allowed to.  All the things you’re not allowed to do, it’s not my fault.  I can’t help that.  I don’t come up with the stupid laws.  I’m not trying to—”

 

“Save it for someone who could give a shit.”

 

“Okay,” Naruto says to himself, taking a calming breath.  “Okay, I get it.  Not knowing you can manipulate your magic to actually take away someone’s life force instead of just using it to heal, that’s new.  But what about transferring your own life force, like giving someone an extra boost or something.  Did you know about that, too?”

 

Dark eyes narrow.  “Is that what you meant earlier?”

 

“The part about you kissing me feeling really good?  Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

 

“That’s essentially what healing magic is, anyway.  If I do too much at a time, that’s why it tires me out.”

 

“Like what happened at the river with…”

 

Sasuke turns stiff.  “I didn’t have much of anything to draw from back then.  That was the first time I—it doesn’t affect me to that extent anymore.  The difference this time is I’ve never tried to transfer life magic that way before.  I didn’t even know I could do it without my hands, but seeing you so still like that, watching you just lying there...”

 

“That’s what you do when you panic?”  Naruto tilts his head a little, giving Sasuke a strange look.  “You kiss people?”

 

“I didn’t...panic.  I just did what felt natural to do.”

 

“What felt natural, he says.”

 

A lot less stiff, Sasuke rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.  “Apparently, it’s a faster way to take away someone’s life force, too.”

 

Mouth falling open, Naruto continues to stare. 

 

Nonchalant, Sasuke looks down at his hand held in front of him, fingers outstretched, not looking the least bit apologetic.  “At least my control’s much better than what it used to be.”

 

“What am I—your guinea pig?”

 

“More or less.  It isn’t as if there’s anyone out there who really knows about this.”

 

“What about all that time you spend on the PDH?  Haven’t you found anything yet?”

 

Sasuke lowers his arm.  “I would’ve told you.”

 

“What about that research you were doing on those light users, then?  They’re kind of like you, right, so somebody must’ve—”

 

“Who else would know, Naruto?  Who else would—”  Sasuke goes silent, clenching his jaw, but he doesn’t wait for an answer neither of them has.  “I still don’t know what being a life user really means.”

 

“You going to tell Itachi?”

 

“Tell him I almost killed you while we were trying to have sex.”

 

“Well, when you put it that way…”

 

Sasuke snorts, flicking Naruto on the arm.

 

“Seriously, though.  Was it really that bad?  Like when you had to wear those special gloves all the time?”

 

“For the first couple of seconds, yeah.”  Lips pursed, Sasuke turns his gaze down, flexing the fingers of his left hand.  “Something like that, I guess.  I just thought I finally grew past needing to have a handicap.”

 

Naruto bites at the corner of his lower lip.  He starts to raise his arm, almost starts to make a reach for Sasuke’s hand, but thinks better of it when dark eyes catch his gaze.  “…I would have been okay, you know,” he says, busying his fingers with the corner of the pillow halfway positioned off the bed.  “Having Kyuubi doesn’t exactly mean I’m running low on reserves.  So, really, you didn’t take that much.  It just surprised me.”

 

Sasuke doesn’t quite look away.  He doesn’t say anything, either.

 

“We know for a fact your Influence doesn’t work on me.  And at least it doesn’t work well on people you’re really close to.  I think even Sakura’s almost immune to it by now.  And if the whole life force thing has more to do with that…”

 

“It surprised you so much that you stopped breathing, Naruto.”  Lips taut, Sasuke takes a slow breath in, fingers curled into his palm.

 

“Actually, about that…”  Naruto lets go of the pillow, lifting a hand he places over the back of his neck.  “The reason I was surprised when you kissed me, that is, how it made me feel, it was like having sex with you.  Just…without actually having sex with you,” he admits, cheeks somewhat flushed.

 

The tension dissipates at the admission, broken by the near embarrassed sort of resignation on Sasuke’s face. 

 

“Um, it was really intense?”

 

“You’ve never had sex before.”

 

“Okay, not sex,  _sex_.  More like that really good feeling when you’re getting off with your hand, and you know you’re getting closer—almost there—except a whole lot better when you finally—”

 

“Shut up, Naruto,” Sasuke says, voice not a little strained.  “Please.”

 

“Does this make what you did some kind of sex magic?”

 

“There’s no such thing as sex magic.”

 

“Heh.  I’m almost tempted to ask you to do it again.  Not that I think I’d ever really need it, but that feeling…”

 

“I wouldn’t do it even if you did ask.”

 

“I know.  I’m just kidding, kidding, but you definitely can’t kiss anybody else like that, though, all right.  Definitely shouldn’t...”  Naruto trails off for a moment, blue eyes already uneasy appearing more and more on edge, but then he blinks.  “Just, uh...yeah.  It’s a good thing you wouldn’t, a really good thing because...”

 

Sasuke almost frowns.  “Why?”

 

“Because you can’t just go around kissing random people?”

 

“Just tell me.”

 

“What I’m trying to say is, it felt good, Sasuke.”

 

“You said that already.”

 

“And I mean it.”

 

“How?”

 

“It was like...like somehow, I was actually getting  _high_  off you.  The kind of high people can get addicted to real easy.  Remember that Fusion Bar we snuck into?”

 

“You mean that time we hopped a transport all the way to Jeil, after you tried to pick a fight, and I had to drag your sorry ass all the way back to the base?”

 

“No need to be so uptight about it, jeeze.”  Naruto makes a dismissive wave with his hand.  “Not the first time you hacked a transport without permission.  Point is, when you kissed me the first time, even though you were taking some of my life force, it was kind of like the aftermath of inhaling that vapour a little too long.  That’s the best I can think of comparing it to for you.”

 

Sasuke raises an eyebrow.  “I didn’t think the Ephemeral there was that strong.  Not legally, anyway.”

 

“It isn’t,” Naruto agrees, but his voice is quick to grow low, more sombre, with that uneasy look back in his eyes.  “I’ve never been under your Influence, so I can’t compare it to that, but the second time you kissed me, Sasuke…”  He lets out a quick breath, forcing air through his mouth, “it felt like a hell of a lot more.

 

“So, if that was anything close to what being under your Influence is like, I get why you’re not supposed to do that.”  Leaning forward, Naruto licks his lips, arms crossed over his lap.  “Except this way’s worse.  Because you’re right.  It hits a lot faster.”

 

“I know it has to do with inducing mild euphoric sensations,” Sasuke says, “but there’s nothing sexual about it.  I don’t even mean to do it half the time.  My Influence doesn’t work like that.”

 

“Maybe not, but something sure as hell does.”

 

“It was only a few seconds, though.  How badly did it affect you?”

 

“Not like it would’ve affected someone else, I don’t think.  And that could be because of your connection to Kyuubi.  It’s just, more than the sudden rush I got from it, it was the way it left me kind of jittery, the way it almost made me  _need_  it, and I had to hold myself back from this really strong urge to get it again—I can see how someone might get addicted to that.”

 

“…it’s too unpredictable to try this again.”

 

“W-wait a minute, Sasuke.  Wait a minute.  I never said that.  Just because you got too worked up during foreplay, doesn’t mean we can’t still try.  We can definitely still—”

 

“I could’ve  _killed_  you, Naruto.  I almost—”

 

“But you didn’t kill me.  You  _won’t_  kill me.  I’m still here, all right.  I’m better than that.  Sure, you really had me going there for a second, but everything’s okay—I’m okay.  Really.”

 

Naruto gives Sasuke a slight nudge with his elbow.  “Besides, death by sex magic, you got to admit, it’s not a bad way to go.”

 

Sasuke pulls on Naruto’s ear.  “Don’t call it that.”                                                                                 

 

“Whatever it was, I’m pretty sure it scores right up there with the best sex I ever had.”

 

“We already established you’ve never had sex before.”

 

“That is so not the point I’m trying to make here, Sasuke.”

 

“Then what is?”

 

“Is sex magic illegal?”

 

“There is no such thing as sex magic.  Stop trying to—”

 

“Would it make you feel better if I called it breath play?”  Naruto grins at the dry expression on Sasuke’s face.  “Because that does make it sort of like sex magic, doesn’t it.  Once you really start to think about it.”

 

Without warning, Sasuke makes a reach for the collar of Naruto’s shirt, mouth pressed against warm lips, a desperate rush of grappling fingers and unyielding force that topples a surprised Naruto back onto the bed.

 

When starts to Sasuke pull away, though, this time, nothing happens.

 

Naruto opens his eyes, watching Sasuke with a soft and lazy grin.  “Told you.”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Nope.”  Naruto snorts.  “At least we made it past the kissing part.”  He gives a thoughtful look to Sasuke’s dark blue shirt, tugging at the hem.

 

“Your clothes are still on, too.”

 

“Not like we’re in the mood anymore, anyway.”  Naruto shifts a little, letting Sasuke get more comfortable.  “How long do you think it’ll take for Neji to notice we’re gone?”

 

“Another hour at least.  That’ll give us time to run into Itachi, first.”

 

“Kind of not looking forward to that.”

 

“I’m not looking forward to it, either.  But since there’s no telling if whatever’s going on with me will manifest itself in other ways, we have to say something.”

 

“About us trying to have sex or your breath play sex magic?”

 

“Come here, Naruto.  Let me kiss you again.”

 

“Hey, hey, don’t you threaten me like that.  You’re putting me in a serious death-or-not-life situation.  Either your brother kills me when he finds out we tried to have sex, or you kill me when we try to have sex.  There is no good ending for me in this.”

 


	8. Dirty Harry VII:  Amarillo/Revolving Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for possibly disturbing, violent imagery dealing with blood.

He feels himself in motion.

 

The ground is soft, damp, readily gives way beneath his weight.

 

Grass prickles over his skin, leaves an uncomfortable wetness between his toes, blades of grass dry and brittle that grate against the bottom of his feet, reaching high enough to brush across his ankles, cut off by the hems of his pants.

 

A heavy mist surrounds him, shrouds the forest around him.

 

The air feels abnormally cool, still humid, although filled with a saturated chill that penetrates his jacket, sporadically nips at his skin through the midweight material of a long-sleeved shirt, more reminiscent of vestiges the aftermath of an early morning rain, despite the eerie disquiet of a day already turned to dusk.

 

He glances up, gaze following small pockets of light escaped through the canopy of dense foliage towering high above him, a waning light already weakened at the height of colossal trees, scarcely revealed throughout uneven branches still lush with leaves in various stages of decay.

 

His gaze begins to fall, following alongside the aged bark of large, robust trunks, eyes trailing leaves floating against a backdrop of ashen grey, leaves a singular portrait in dulled tones of greens weaved amongst gradations of oranges and yellows and reds laid scattered by the barest of autumn winds, fallen atop wilted leaves blotched and yellowed and too browned lying shrivelled across the forest floor.

 

A display that would otherwise seem mundane, would be perceived as nothing less than normal, somehow, being here, it almost feels…

 

In front of him, the path begins to taper, his pace a leisure gait leading him deeper into the forest, somewhere down this road well-trodden, a trail of two broad lines impressed by barren, whitened ground, dappled with intermittent patches of grass and leaves either dying or already dead.

 

He doesn’t know why or when he came to be here, how long he’s been seemingly left to wander, but at the very least he can recognise it’s too quiet—the kind of quiet posed by a deceptive calm, almost as stifling as the sheer presence of the trees around him, the atmosphere of this place bearing a marked stillness disturbing within a forest of any size, but especially so in one of this apparent magnitude.

 

The very existence of it feels unnatural, gives an unsettling sensation brought upon by its capacity to sustain so much plant life, for what seems to be such an extended period of time, for years that have to be no fewer than centuries, and yet somehow intrinsically devoid of any other discernible signs of life, because if there were anything else here, anything at all, he would’ve been able to sense it by now.

 

He should’ve been able to sense other life energies by now.

 

But there’s something about this place, a bewildering notion vaguely familiar, more than simply the appearance of its trees that already feel old, all of its trees that somehow still feel _alive_ at an age that makes the entire forest feel so _ancient_ , this place he’s sure he’s never been before, and yet there are things about this place, embroidered within him, an ember of soundless laughter, glowing dim the smile in dark brown eyes—so many things that seem increasingly far away, scarce across his memory, a heady rush of emotions that make his legs for a moment falter, emotions already fleeting he can’t distinguish from his own, allusions beyond him, eclipsed by briefest glimpse into something _more_ , a sudden sense of wanting, this unrecognisable longing for a time that eludes him, a time that once was and feels so long ago.

 

His body remains in motion.  His thoughts bombarded by emotions too many, all of it gone too quickly to name, none of it he can even begin to comprehend—he reminds himself to breathe, as his legs continue to carry him forward, his body drawn towards an instinctual pull it doesn’t occur to him to question.

 

Whatever it is, wherever this road may go, in this place it almost feels as if he remembers, navigating this place his feet that somehow already know where to take him, here in this place it suddenly dawns upon him the significance of the quiet that surrounds him, the forest seemingly forced still, as if something had taken hold of it.

 

Too easily can he imagine, tries to ignore the odd fluctuation of his magic roused in response, with a steadily growing foreboding doesn’t want to acknowledge the abrupt possibility, that if he could simply bring himself to touch any other part of this place, if he were to place his hand over the bark of any tree, let himself reach for any leaf, can knowingly feel it, subconsciously already heeds it, through the dirt beneath his feet, as if everything around him was held static for the sake of simply lying in wait, this far too incredible notion, becoming less and less an improbability he doesn’t want to risk proving true, that he only has to answer with his mag—

 

Then, he hears it.

 

Carried through the trees, the slightest echo on the wind, nearly drowned by the faint rustle of leaves, he hears a voice.

 

So very near imperceptible the sound, he can hear it, a voice that seems to call to him, gradually becoming less muted, a song someone’s singing, discordant fragments of a gentle melody he once must’ve known, because in his mind, the words he doesn’t recognise, he can still follow along, like it’s been sung to him before, like a lullaby he used to know when he was young.

 

The voice, it’s a woman’s voice, he can tell— _her_ voice, he thinks—no, he _knows_ , this voice that’s calling him, seems to have always been calling him, in a language he can’t quite place, calls out to him in all but name, buried beneath snippets of memories uncertain, a history unremitting, yet just as soon forgotten, a voice that beckons him to come, an inexplicable yearning that hurries him farther along.

 

The air begins to feel warmer, as the voice becomes a less distant call, his feet on their accord walking faster, steps taken harried through the heavy mist, anxiously seeking, lured by silent chords, the sound of his own breaths braying against the sound of his heart beating, as the path continues to narrow, the trees starting to crowd upon him, trees he’s careful to avoid on either side confining him, quickly drawing closer and closer, as his feet bring him nearer, towards the direction of the voice growing louder, the words he still doesn’t understand becoming clearer, encompassing everything around him, words that gradually fade into a soft hum, played over and over, the melody of a song that suddenly all at once feels both strange and familiar, as if she were right beside him, his magic grown restless lurching inside of him, because everywhere he hears her, everywhere her voice still remains so far aw—

 

His body’s no longer in motion.

 

No longer does it feel his feet are being compelled to move.

 

As the soft hum of the melody fades, his breathing begins to mellow, his magic already settled into a less agitated state, still comforting in its attempt to assure him, although not quite its usual calm.

 

Barely squeezed through the narrowed gap of trees framed around him, he’s stopped at the edge of the forest, stopped in the middle of a moment lost to a time seemingly stood still.

 

Ahead of him lies a clearing, unaffected by the heavy mist that seems to have stalled behind him, yet hanging over it a pall of closely gathered clouds, an area not much more than deadened field, a vast expanse of emptied land more akin to a shallow basin, at its rim beginning the nearly negligible descent of its slope, with its soil turned too dry to salvage, a sudden shift in the ground turned a darkened grey more bleak than the forest floor.

 

It’s nearer to the far side of the clearing that’s commanded his attention, though, where his gaze is first caught, there he fixates on the tree he couldn’t help but notice, a gargantuan tree, in size truly enormous.  However, it’s also then when it begins gnawing inside him the tendrils of a visceral dread.

 

Isolated from its surroundings the mere presence of it seems to dwarf, the tree here is more vibrant than those in the forest, on its own somehow still able to flourish, despite no immediate signs of life around it.  As well, it looks considerably younger, and although from this distance it appears to stand shorter at a slightly lower elevation, it’s notably wider in girth, much more robust, the bark of its trunk a deep auburn rather than ashen grey, seemingly impervious to the influence of change, from winding branches grown leaves just as lush, if not more abundant, all of them wholly coloured a jarring green.

 

In spite of its appearance, the tree paints too vivid an image, overall lends itself to a contrast too stark.  It’s as healthy as it is grotesque.  Daunting and near inconceivable, it’s a niggling concept, the burgeoning thought of its existence, as if it had merely come to subsist by draining the life energy of anything around it, his own inference to the very abhorrent nature of it that gives him again an unsettling sensation, fills him with a more acute sense of apprehension, one that subdues even his own curiosity, and prevents any desire to approach it.

 

Yet it also has him remain where he stands, as his gaze veers down.

 

Towards the wide base of the tree, sat on their heels is a hooded figure completely adorned in an almost iridescent white, what he can see of their profile mostly obscured by what looks to be some kind of ceremonial garb, opaque robes thin layers of fine material loosely draped over a lithe frame, long robes not so far removed from a type of dress he knows he’s seen somewhere before.

 

Facing the crouched figure is an impressively large creature, kneeled on four legs relatively short, almost stubby, compared to the rest of its elongated body, its feet hooves coloured a light tan, and its coat thin, fur coloured a white nearly as bright as the figure’s robes—a creature whose head alone is easily twice the figure’s size, massive in its own right, and yet even so, in the foreground of such an imposing tree, in this form the creature appears so much smaller, somehow so much younger than an age he doesn’t know what would be.

 

The scene staggers him, a strange dissonance the sight of them beneath the shade of the tree, relaxed sat among perverse coils of broad, misshapen roots forcibly driven into the ground, dredging through dry soil the tree’s roots much darker than the auburn of its trunk, much more a deep brown conflated with a near black dulled by grey.

 

Between dark and light, the gap almost feels ominous, yet what the image also evokes from him is almost…serene.  Appearing at first so very small, these two forms of white, but created around them this garden of shadow, a system of roots with a far-reaching sweep, closer towards him looming, leeching, gradually thinned past the centre of the clearing, still partially visible above the ground, until the roots disappear behind him, breaching the low wall of sloped land elevating the forest floor.

 

Twice and again, that vaguely familiar notion, another instance of a time already passed, on the verge of once more being forgotten, because it’s _her_ , he thinks.  The voice that was calling to him, that song he must’ve heard before, it _has_ to be her, even though he wonders how he could’ve possibly missed her, beyond the slight shimmer of her robes, enthralled by a radiance that simply _is_ , emanates from every part of her, and he can only stare—stood motionless at the edge of the forest, watching her, watching them, fumbling through a hazy recollection, it’s like a memory from a dream, vestiges of a nascent nostalgia, stumbling upon the meaning of _something,_ vying to grasp this constant yearning, the significance of this one thing suddenly so prevalent in his mind, this something he almost, _almost_ remembers, but still won’t come.

 

Maybe that’s why he wasn’t able to sense her, why he still isn’t able to sense anything from either of them.

 

Maybe that’s why neither of them seems aware of his presence, because all of this, none of it is…

 

She begins to raise her arms, arms bared through large, billowed sleeves fallen away from her wrists and gathered above her elbows, where the white of her robes seems to glow against the richness of brown skin already warm with undertones of red and yellow.

 

Thin layers of cloth shift over her body, flow with graceful movements, as she reaches with both hands behind her, carefully removing the hood attached to a high collar covering the entirety of her neck, revealing thick, dark hair, a large bundle of loose curls that move freely when she raises her head a little higher.

 

Her mouth begins to move.  She’s speaking to the creature, speaking to it words he doesn’t know, and even the gist of what she’s saying he doesn’t comprehend, but he doesn’t think anything of it, as his lips part in tandem with hers, a moment that passes too soon to consciously notice, when he mouths the words that feel heavy, but not quite foreign on his tongue.

 

The way she regards the creature, simply by what he can tell from her body language, it’s clear she respects it.  She treats it less like an animal, and more like what may be appropriate to call a companion, as if it has the sentient capability to fully understand her; between them seems to lie an implicit trust, in part due to how the creature seems to readily defer to her, not necessarily docile, but still in its stance a subtle sort of reverence, outwardly treating her with a calm regard, and yet still highly responsive to her presence, poised to move for whatever reason at a moment’s notice.

 

The creature doesn’t resemble any living thing he’s familiar with, in appearance more so than size, but he still hesitates to label it as just some animal; even more striking than its size are the five plush tails fanned behind it, the ends coloured the same light tan of its hooves, and the same light tan darkening the tips of the four horns on top of a wide, bulbous head, four short horns grown wide apart, far from fully grown, barely more than nubs, suggesting a level of maturity that simultaneously does and doesn’t seem to suit it.

 

Much more than any animal he’s come across, there’s something inherently majestic about this creature, simply in the way it carries itself a quiet dignity, alongside the substantial kind of self-awareness found in very few species known on record, that more and more begins to remind him of—

 

Her laughter surprises him.  As she sits on the ground, folding her legs beneath her, it’s a whimsical sound, takes him out of his short-lived reverie, as light and airy as the musical quality of her singing.

 

The laughter subsides, with the slight shake of her shoulders she recovers from quickly.

 

Quietly, he watches another scene unfolding.

 

With her left hand, she reaches over to her right side, the side of her he can’t see.  She pulls out what looks to be a sizeable piece of fruit, round with reddish skin, similar to a peach, although much larger than any peach he’s seen, barely able to fit into her palm.

 

She takes a bite out of it, revealing a small portion of creamy, white flesh surrounding an already visible pit nearly half the size of the fruit itself.  There’s a low rumble, and she tilts her head a little, silently teasing her companion, laughing when the creature bares sharp teeth with a light growl that wanes as soon as she offers the rest of the fruit.

 

Expectant, the creature tilts its head to accept, barely opens its broad jaw, but it’s still opened far enough for her to easily climb inside, enough room spaced between its teeth to easily devour her with the smallest movement forward, yet she extends her arm without hesitation, placing the fruit in the creature’s mouth.

 

It isn’t until her arm is safely removed, however, that the creature snaps its jaw shut.

 

A large, broad tongue darts around the creature’s mouth.  Smacking its lips, it moves its head back a little, outwardly pleased, releasing another low rumble, in the form of a content purr that even from here he can feel within his chest.

 

She starts to speak again, speaks only a short phrase this time accompanied by the rise of both hands she holds in front of her, palms faced up, held over her lap.  Over her right palm quickly begins to grow a whorl of motion—water, he realises, a spiralling flow tempered into the shape of a sphere no larger than her palm, effortlessly contained, coloured a deep sea blue inlayed with striations near perfectly even bands bright white.

 

Over her left palm grows another sphere, almost instantaneous, but instead of water, hovering above her hand are flames of a small fire, casted into a much more tumultuous whirl of motion she controls with an apparent ease, circled inside hues of reds and yellows and faint blues, patterned with the same bright striations of white.

 

And it’s with that same deft ease she brings her hands together, by sheer will alone able to combine spheres composed of two opposing elements that seem to completely disappear between her palms.

 

With a swish of its tails, the creature wrinkles its snout, drawing back with a sniff, but ultimately unable to hold in a short sneeze that releases traces of steam slowly rising from its nostrils.

 

There’s a low-pitched whine, immediately soothed by her hands gently stroking the creature’s chin.  Another playful growl follows, a low snarl that comes across as more of a petulant huff, and again she laughs, amused, but it’s through soft murmurs, a whisper of secrets kept between them, that she continues to caress its chin, her fingers tickling the fur along the length of the creature’s jaw.

 

_Tumo mere yo._

_Maene tumo yon._

 

He blinks, distracted when the creature begins to nuzzle her with its snout, transfixed because it’s so very careful with her, so wholly apparent in its fondness towards her, nearly palpable the way it simply revels in her touch.

 

More so now than when he first stumbled upon them, even as long as he’s been observing them from afar, suddenly, it almost seems intrusive, the depth of this particular interaction, a quiet display of affection he isn’t sure he’s meant to see, but as she lowers her arms, the creature raises its head turned slightly towards him, and for a moment prolonged seems to hold his gaze.

 

The creature remains unperturbed when their eyes meet, unbothered by his presence, emitting a nonchalance nearly approaching boredom, but unmistakable is the intelligence in its gaze, astute the look in its eyes a bluish green, with thin red markings underneath.

 

If it’s truly taken notice of him at all, he doesn’t know, but the way his heart races, as again the creature begins to open its mouth, as if it were to speak, as if it could speak, as he watches with a hushed anticipation, this small but growing part of him already set to believe the creature has to have noticed him, because so much does he feel like the creature already somehow _knows_ him.

 

Except all that comes out from the creature’s mouth is an idle yawn, its mouth open wide to fully reveal two rows of large teeth.  It spares him no further regard, as it closes its eyes, closing its mouth as it lays down his head, curling beneath the comfort of its five tails hiding the rest of its body from view.

 

The atmosphere turns still.  It becomes an almost unbearable quiet, laden with something not quite disappointment, more so a misplaced expectation perhaps, but then she begins to shift, strangely stilted, as if her movements were the result of her body being posed.

 

She begins to unfold her legs.

 

Slowly, she begins to stand on her feet bare.

 

Her body rises with her head slightly bowed.

 

Her arms hang at her sides, fallen against two long slits through cloth trailed one on each side along the bottom half of her robes.

 

She turns towards him.

 

As she lifts her head, his breath catches in his throat.

 

She faces him with eyes that appear to be closed, with a gaze unseeing still seemingly able to find him, having immediately sought him, as if all this time she was actually waiting for his arrival, but he wants to dismiss the idea, because if the creature didn’t notice him, she wouldn’t have noticed him, either, yet it feels different this time, because even from this distance, her eyes, he can tell there’s something he’s missing, something wrong.

 

There’s something…off.

 

Why won’t she…

 

He blinks at the drop of water against his forehead.  Suddenly, the sky begins to darken.  Rain begins to pelt at his face.  It falls sporadic, drenching the back of his hair, trailing down the sides of his face, rolling off his jacket beads of water that drip onto his feet.

 

The ground shakes beneath them.  A sudden boom of thunder nearly startles him, as lightning cracks against the sky.  Momentarily effaced, from the forest shadows ever so slowly crept upon him, already returned, tracing over his skin, an outpour of shadows danced among them.

 

Air begins to gather at her feet, quickly surges into a large coil of harsh winds.  With her arms still held at her sides, without any outward movement, the winds are raised in one sharp motion, in a wide circle that swiftly enfolds her, causes long white robes to thresh wildly, gusts that flutter her hair violently, desecrating the immediate area hollowed around her, the winds on their own powerful enough to leave behind a large crater, from the ground creating a depression with its rim reaching as high as her knees.

 

It’s a level of magic he hasn’t been exposed to before, in this situation that doesn’t make him feel entirely unafraid, a magic that for once in his life makes him feel wary, the first time in seemingly forever unsure of his own magic that remains disturbingly calm, even as it tries to quiet his increasing sense of unease, although whether it’s because of the magic itself or simply…

 

But his body won’t move.

 

He doesn’t know why his body won’t move.

 

A shrill, piercing sound is his only warning, as she continues to guide the winds without any motions, unleashes winds without pause that immediately rush towards him, to his ears, the entire onslaught a cacophony, the crescendo of a loud roar nearly deafening—he closes his eyes, instinctively moves to raise his arms in front of him, crossing them to shield his face, bracing himself for the force of an impact that doesn’t come.

 

Instead, the winds part before him, leave him untouched, unscathed, but summarily lay waste to the stretch of forest behind him, far, far behind him the wave of its effect on such a long and broad stretch of land he can simply _feel_ , obliterating anything amassed in its path of destruction.

 

The rain comes to an abrupt stop.  The roar fades into a thin hiss.  The air gives a final shudder around him, then stills.

 

Slowly, cautiously, he begins to lower his arms, blinking away the water caught in his eyes.  It’s when he looks around, however, when his gaze unconsciously seeks and finds her, that he realises the rain hasn’t stopped.

 

She’s created a barrier around them.  Erected by the strength of her magic alone, streams of winds quietly rotating in a large arc formed around them, a sort of tunnel, nearly devoid of sound, shielding them from the storm outside, where he can still see lightning, can still hear muffled thunder.

 

Yet even that, too, seems to disappear.  The world here pays no heed to the world out there, the world ravaged beyond this moment in time, the beat of pouring rain crashing nearly silent against her barrier, severe the blow of winds relentless against her magic that doesn’t waver.

 

What lingers between them is a wilful calm. 

 

He watches her, stares at her eyes still closed, while she continues to look to him unseeing, her body held still, locked within a narrow chasm, a seemingly impenetrable void meant to will the two of them away, but it’s in here laid windswept between them a path that leads her directly to him.

 

Scarcely, he can hear himself breathe, barely feels the slight quiver of his lips, as she places one foot over the rim of the depression.  He releases a breath unintentionally held.  With one more step taken, she rises above hollowed ground, standing to her full height, her body stopped, arms still relaxed at her sides.

 

A sharp tingle runs down his spine.

 

Once more, the ground begins to shake, but it’s with a steady strum pulsating underneath it, a much more dreadful noise, the heavy, persistent drumming of a raging upward force trying to ram its way through.

 

On the inside of her arms, cuts gradually start to appear, a myriad of cuts varying in size, placed in a strange arrangement, creating a series of reoccurring symbols almost ritualistic; the slashes themselves don’t seem deep, and don’t occur anywhere fatal, but some of them seem to be made deliberately crude, many of the symbols inconsistent, marked by different hands, the work of a single crude object marring her skin, shallow wounds that slowly bleed into the folds of white robes.

 

Around him, trickles of red swell from beneath the ground.

 

He can almost taste it in his mouth, a coppery tang that saturates the back of his throat.

 

Behind her, the hollow’s nearly full.  It continues to pool until it completely fills, and over its rim emerges to spill onto her feet.

 

It’s blood.

 

All of it, so much blood, but not all of it is hers, even though it’s still part of her.

 

At the same time it is, somehow it still isn’t, but he doesn’t know why.  He can’t—why won’t his body move?  Why can’t he—

 

She begins to stalk towards him.

 

Still, his body won’t move.  Still, his magic remains calm.  The mere sight of her is enough to render him immobile.

 

Blood stains the hems of her robes, soaks the very ends of willowy fabric that becomes heavier dragged through a rising sea she treads above lightly, slowly, too softly, with steps that make no sound, her body almost weightless, as if she’s floating, leaving only beneath her feet small ripples in the growing body of red that feels sticky and warm.

 

It already covers his feet, uncomfortable seeped between his toes, already settled into a gentle tide that reaches above his ankles, barely douses the hems of his pants, back and forth a slow sway of red that seems to cling to his skin.

 

Her silhouette flickers.  Like a glitch, the image is materialised out of phase, distorts with flashes of memory, splinters of an apparition selectively appeared, pushed blind into remnants of a dark place, vanished from the visible plane of existence, buried in the earth somewhere here, another flicker that brings her closer, trapped beneath hallowed ground, a terrible, cold sensation, desperately clawing at walls of dirt drawing in around him—with a small shake of his head, he shivers, suddenly hyperaware of his surroundings, too sensitive to what’s left of the life around him, the rest of the forest, even that daunting, near inconceivable tree, what goes through him an all too familiar, fettering sensation, an incredibly invasive, violating sense of decay.

 

But why aren’t they here?  All of them, they’re all gone.  He can’t sense any of them.  Why was he separated from them?  He needs them.  He still needs them.  He doesn’t want to be alone.  They promised him.  They promised he’d never again be alone.  But why is it so cold?  Why is it so hard to breathe?  Where are they?  Where’s Ko—

 

Although he can’t see it, he can still feel it all the same, since being here, for the first time feels too strongly, tethered to his very bones the sensation of once vibrant foliage not dying naturally, instead caused rapidly to wither, and yet it’s because of this he immediately knows it has to be her.

 

All of it’s her.  She’s the epicentre, created within her a moving, fixed decay, constantly expanding, corroding the life of everything around her, leaving in her wake quickly growing rifts that even he can’t begin to undo, because it truly is frightening, and something inside him just _shatters_ , exposed to the sheer scope of her own desolation he nearly succumbs to.

 

But he still can’t move.

 

He can’t move.

 

Suddenly, she’s stood before him, her gaze still unseeing set upon him, but her eyes, eyes he thought were merely closed, eyes she may have chosen not to open—there are stitches stretched across both areas of her eyes, around them faint scars, and over both eyelids sewn meticulously strewn lines of thin, black thread.

 

Despite his own continued uncertainty, how conflicted he feels regarding her magic that’s yet to actively harm him, to deprive her of sight like this, it’s a cruel thing to have done.  However, for some reason, it doesn’t surprise him.  It doesn’t repulse him, either.  And neither does it detract from the opportunity to have her here beside him.  He takes in this moment to hear her, to actually _see_ her.

 

Between them begins another sort of wilful calm, a much more tranquil silence as she regards him with a curious expression, eyebrows slightly furrowed in a veiled sort of scrutiny he returns.

 

Large curls defy gravity, spread throughout dark strands beads of water that make her hair gleam.  Her face escaped the rain, as did the rest of her body and her robes, probably because the rain was a consequence of her magic.  For the most part, though, she appears unruffled, even after such a powerful display of magic; the barrier of wind still maintained around them, she shows no noticeable signs of strain, as she takes two steps more towards him, purposeful strides wading through red and closing between them a space that barely amounts to arm’s length.

 

But even with bloodied arms, in bloodied, lavish robes still delicately draped around her frame, she exudes the same radiance.  Standing this close, somehow, he thinks her more ethereal, this decidedly solid image of her that almost seems surreal, because while she remains the source of the fixed decay, she continues to watch him, with the slight tilt of her head gives a soft hum, the brief melody of a song, a pleasant sound that so easily compels him, and yet also stirs within him this utterly hapless feeling, suddenly makes him feel so very small, standing before her, looking towards her, little more than a lost child.

 

Although she only stands a little taller, no longer elevated above the ground, she doesn’t appear to be that much older.  On the surface, it looks as though they may be close in age, but her very presence, there’s something so overwhelmingly profound about her, that makes him feel so, so incredibly _young_ , because she does feel that much older—so much older than the forest that once was, all the trees that used to be.

 

Unbidden from him comes a harsh intake of breath, and he falters at the hands that slowly reach towards him, before he can think to move away, except he can’t mo—he nearly recoils at her gentle touch, her expression softer, kind, as she cradles his face, seemingly using her hands to see him, with fingers a light caress that move to rest over his temples.

 

Unconsciously, he begins to lean further into her touch.  His eyelids begin to feel heavy, begin to lower, but they don’t completely fall closed, as he feels himself falling into a daze, entranced by the sight of her slightly bleary.

 

His arms hang at his sides.  His body starts to sway a little away from her, but she carefully balances him, with a distinctive grace tilts his head a little closer towards her.  Her hands are a comforting touch, a familial intimacy that holds him safe and warm, a simple instance of physical contact that leaves him _yearning_ , between them a poignant familiarity that resonates with his magic, more and more seems to resemble hers, a reassuring presence in the back of his mind, a soothing, ever-present hum, because already does her magic feel so closely intertwined with his own.

 

_Tumo mere yo._

_Maene tumo yon._

 

He blinks, taken aback by a sudden sense of melancholy.  The expression on her face doesn’t change.  Her features are patient, still kind, but it’s almost…it’s almost as if she’s still waiting for something, still waiting for…

 

The corner of his mouth sets into a slight frown she returns with a rueful smile.

 

A sharp cry is torn from the back of his throat, her fingers suddenly digging into his cheeks, her nails scraping across his skin, pressing down harder.

 

Wincing, he grits his teeth, forcing himself to breathe, struggles in earnest against his own body refusing his attempts to break free, his breath nearly taken away when her eyes open, unconstrained, eyes grown large already glowing white.

 

For a moment he loses himself, staring into a blank gaze, staring into pure white, as halting fingers reach to clutch at her wrists, a feeble grip that does nothing against a hold turned unforgiving.  He tries to push away from her, away from hands that won’t let him go, but no longer can he move his arms.  He can’t even move his head.  He can’t move any part of his body on his own.

 

He simply can’t _move_.

 

Swallowing, he watches the symbols engraved on her skin begin to heal, the wounds on her arms no longer bleeding, completely disappeared scars that were never there.

 

There’s a heavy pounding in his chest, an abject fear at the realisation of just how powerless he is, how truly defenceless he is against her, because he can’t do anything to stop her.

 

He has to let it happen.

 

Tremors rack his frame.  His hands tremble.  His entire body feels numb, his breathing considerably slowed beyond snatches of cracked gasps and harsh shudders, touching all of him a suffocating cold crawled against his skin, overtaking him a burning cold that makes his heart shiver, as everything _becomes_ her.

 

Red trickles from the corners of her eyes, trails along her cheeks.

 

It traces around her fingers, trailed along his cheeks, trickled from the corners of his eyes.

 

His magic is convulsing, bubbling beneath his skin, but it’s not responding to him.  It’s an answer to her call.  It’s his magic being unravelled from him.

 

He feels his eyes growing larger, falters beneath the strain of his eyes being held open too wide, as the world already muted around them dissolves into grey, encroached upon them shrouds swallowed by an absence of light, entrenched deep within the earth, laid siege to deadened fields, laid there unmarked to be forgotten.

 

Slowly, her lips begin to part.

 

Slowly, his mouth begins to open.

 

He knows ghosts aren’t real, but he still sees all of it, so much of _her_ , so much of _them_ , what will always be, and it hurts.

 

Even now, it still hurts.

 

Everything hurts.

 

Everything just _hurts_.

 

But he doesn’t want it.

 

He doesn’t want it.

 

He doesn’t—

 

It’s dark when Sasuke opens his eyes.

 

On cushioned ground he lies unmoving, lethargic, chest heaving.

 

Naruto, immediately he thinks.

 

The thought of Kyuubi soon follows, before his eyes attempt to adjust to the lack of light.  The edges of his vision dim, for a brief moment shaded grey, his gaze faced towards the wall farthest away from him, across from him where one of the murals lie, the first mural Naruto showed him.

 

He’s still in the cave, he realises, in the same spot where he must’ve fallen asleep.

 

The fire’s gone, too.

 

But he’s alone.

 

Naruto’s not here with him.

 

Naruto’s not—

 

He breathes through his mouth, in and out slowly, air taken in through prolonged, shallow breaths.

 

There’s a lingering warmth over the back of his neck, and he shivers, curled on his side, trying to keep warm already bundled too tightly in the layers of too many blankets piled on top of him, but it’s still cold. 

 

He doesn’t know why he still feels so cold.

 

Every part of him seems to ache, leaves him unable to even lift his head, his entire body too heavy to move.  It’s the same recurring bout of fatigue that’s been plaguing him ever since arriving on Barrah.  But it’s more than magical exhaustion, more than the consequence of leaving his life magic nearly depleted.  It’s a notably different sensation because even now he’s still not healing like he knows he should.

 

He knows Naruto was right.  In the end it always seems like he can never be right, like everyone else can never be wrong.

 

But if he didn’t do it, and he knows because Kyuubi told him, knows Naruto would’ve—

 

He can sense Naruto outside the caves, not nearby, but neither is he far away.  Although Naruto’s by himself, at least Sasuke can’t sense anyone else around him.  Even if he hasn’t seen his brother in six days, hasn’t spoken to his brother since the last daily his brother had given him, even if he doesn’t know where his brother and Juugo are now, if they’re even okay, at least he can’t sense anyone he doesn’t know, the people out there probably already looking for them, because they’re not alone on Barrah anymore, not—

 

Naruto’s fine, he reminds himself.

 

Naruto’s okay.

 

Naruto’s safe.

 

Naruto’s still—

 

He remembers waking up, remembers his magic calming a restive Kyuubi angry over something Naruto did, something Naruto wasn’t supposed to do.  He remembers Naruto shouting at him, then Naruto talking to him, remembers talking to Naruto, trying to explain, trying to get him to understand.  Vaguely, he remembers reaching out to Naruto with his empathy, but he doesn’t remember falling asleep.  He doesn’t remember anything else in between.

 

He may have dreamed.

 

He thinks.

 

Maybe.

 

He tries to remember.  He wants to remember.

 

But he…

 

He can’t separate himself from the fog in his mind.  There’s too much he doesn’t know how to process, so much of what feels like a distant memory, this very disconcerting thought, this sudden, tangible sense of longing, this mire in his head blurred pieces of a dream it feels he’s on the very cusp of tentatively understanding, further displaced with each futile attempt grasping at a glimmer of something, anything, the meaning of this notion of _more_ , that ultimately becomes nothing, superseding the possibility of a time that once was, a ceaseless barrage of emotions foreboding, something important he shouldn’t—

 

He makes another conscious reach for Naruto, to make sure Naruto’s still okay.

 

His breathing starts to deepen, his chest no longer heaving, and he feels his body relax beneath the soothing hum of his magic that gradually settles his unease.

 

His eyes begin to droop, head already pillowed by the inside of Naruto’s jacket, yet in the back of his mind comes the smallest whisper, a name he tries to remember, the sound of her voice that strays too far away, again escapes his consciousness, _her_ name, he absently thinks.

 

His eyes fall closed, as he falls under the lull of a pleasant sound, played once more and again, turned faint from his own lips, the melody of a song he doesn’t mean to forget.


	9. Dirty Harry VIII:  DARE (Junior Sanchez Remix)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for dark elements, pertaining to mentions of genocide, torture, somewhat gory imagery.

While he has very good reason to call Itachi paranoid, most of the time, the outcomes of Itachi’s predictions are a little too predictable for his tastes—for his continued health, really.

 

It isn’t that he has any problems with Itachi not being wrong.  It’s more like, that kind of thing usually happens when there’re a whole of lot of other things that aren’t necessarily going right, and in this case, with Itachi’s suspicions about reinforcements turning out to be true, Naruto really, really, wishes this was one of those times Itachi could just be wrong like normal people usually are.

 

He’s already been out here for a good four hours, doing surveillance, while Itachi and Juugo have probably already wrapped up their recon.  Itachi did as much as he could on his end, made enough headway without actually having to engage, or do anything that would’ve given away their location.

 

A jetty ship that size couldn’t carry that many people.  Probably not much in terms of carrying large transports, either, since there doesn’t seem to be much cargo room.  Based on what Itachi said, definitely not a carrier, but closer to a skimmer in size, and in design even closer to those Jawa ships usually seen on Eisleyn, one of the busiest and most notorious spaceports, where it’s not uncommon to see bounty hunters and smugglers hanging around.

 

So far, Itachi was able to get a headcount of eight people total, the most he’d seen come off the ship, each and every one of them armed, with no more than two at a time standing guard around the perimeter that had already been established.

 

Highly likely there’re still a few more unfriendlies accounted for, stuck on board for whatever reason, maybe putting the total around fourteen or fifteen, since a ship like that doesn’t need much of a deck crew.  Still potentially up to twenty or more, but even Itachi said that’s erring on the side of caution, because he couldn’t be sure how long ago the ship had landed, and if anyone had already left the area before his and Juugo’s arrival, or even how far they’d been able to advance, since Itachi and Juugo hadn’t actually run into any of the mercenaries up until that point.

 

Itachi did confirm that there was at least one team outside the wire, though, seemingly set off a couple days ago, foot, already in the process of heading out by the time he and Juugo reached the dale, a four-man cell, with the rest of the landing party staying near the ship.

 

All that’s left to do is play the waiting game.

 

Again, waiting for Sasuke to wake up.

 

Waiting here again restless, feeling helpless, unable to do anything.

 

He really can’t stand waiting.

 

There’s already been another sandstorm.  Not as bad as the others, just the usual loads of sand being kicked up and thrown around, that he’s come to expect.  Not nearly bad enough to prevent anyone from trudging through it, if they were careful about it, especially equipped with the proper gear.

 

Fortunately, unlike the last storm, this one didn’t last as long.  A half hour tops.  The worst part of it was having poor visibility.  All the sand and not so small rocks being flung at him any which way, that was easy enough to deflect with his magic.  No, it was the total lack of visibility that very much concerned him, caused by winds still strong enough to create flurries of sand and debris affecting the range capability of the sensors in his goggles, and even for that amount of time, it was still too much time, thirty minutes he was essentially waiting blind.

 

There’s no way to tell how wide an area the storm reached, how far away from the caves it either came from, or how far it travel away before dying out.  He hasn’t received any alerts from his PCD about the ship, damage-related or otherwise, so that’s good.  If there’s a silver lining there, at the very least, he wants to think the storm bought them a little more time.

 

With the weather here, they’ve lucked out so far, although he’s leaning more towards thinking that’s mostly because he’s been crossing his fingers and hoping for the best.

 

Temperature-wise, it stays hot during the day, stays cold at night.  Other than that, the most consistent thing about the weather is the fact that some kind of sandstorm will eventually show up somewhere sometime at least _twice_ , during Barrah’s twenty-five hour cycle.  However, when and where they appear, whatever signs he would’ve normally recognised, even those are constantly changing.

 

Multiple instances of sustained, multi-directional winds that seem to just appear randomly, pick up too quickly, literally within minutes, to the point where it happens often enough to produce a relatively alarming number of sandstorms in a very wide area.

 

It’s not like any kind of desert environment he’s been to before.  Naus is a desert planet, too, but it was nothing like this.  A planet like Barrah, none of it makes sense.

 

For one thing, there’s entirely too much sand.  Almost like one really thick layer of sand, and right underneath it, probably even more sand, and then layers of rock that used to be sand, going all the way down past Barrah’s crust.

 

As a result, the ground’s mostly soft, mostly okay to walk on, but not firm enough to hold the weight of more heavy-duty vehicles like wheeled transports.  Small hover transports, maybe, or one of those bingo type fliers that don’t take up much space, although he doesn’t think it’d be worth the hassle to risk getting sand particles or potentially too much hot air into the vents, and increasing the likelihood of some kind of mechanical or electric failure because of that.

 

Since the storm left, in the time he hasn’t gone back inside the caves, in between small sips of water taken from his canteen, he took another NP.

 

This is why he doesn’t like waiting.

 

Not being able to do anything

 

Being given too much time to think.

 

Forced to sit out the sooner or later of a confrontation that’s been inevitable from the very start.

 

He shifts on his stomach a little, rolling his shoulders a couple times, trying to get rid of some of the aches.  His back’s still killing him, from sleeping against the cave wall, and from not being able to move much while he was holding Sasuke.

 

As soon as they get out of this, he just wants to lie down for a whole week.  Doesn’t even have to be on a bed, just off Barrah—very, very far away, anywhere not Barrah.  And then find some way to convince Sasuke to lie down with him, too, so he can let his guard down a little, actually start to relax when he can see for himself that Sasuke really will be okay, without having to worry about him going off to do something stupid again.

 

If he just asked, though, Sasuke would probably agree to it, let him stay close, meet him there halfway, with the same easy contact between magic users that’s always felt stronger when it’s just between Sasuke and him.  Just lying next to each other, the two of them tangled up together, sharing warmth for the sake of giving Sasuke the kind of reassurance he needs, the kind of reassurance they both need, something they actually haven’t done in a while, but the way Sasuke was last night…

 

He’s definitely calling it.  It’s already been eight days.  Today should’ve been a wake up.

 

Seems like it’s been forever since they left for Nahmi IV, and yet somehow, it seems even longer since the day Itachi decided to split them up.

 

Was it really that long ago?

 

Feels like a long time ago, longer than it has any right to be.  It’s only been four days, though.  Something like that.  Not counting the day Sasuke was separated from him and Itachi. 

 

The dale’s almost two days away from the prison.  The prison’s only about an hour and half away from the caves, compared to the ship nearly four hours out in the opposite direction.

 

Added together, give or take, depending on the weather, it’s around the same amount of time between now and when Itachi first told him about the mercenaries.

 

By the time Itachi and Juugo actually reached the dale, the mercenaries were already there; the ship landed near a series of sand and stone formations, the mountains where Juugo said he and his people had been forced to mine what could still possibly be Magdum ore.

 

What really caught Itachi’s attention, though, was the large, open entryway built into one of the outcrops, directly into the face of the mountain, with a flat, square roof extended outward, the back of the roof and one of its sides held up by the outcrop itself, and supported in the front by two broad, rounded columns—but the floor most of all, even dusted with sand, even seen from a distance, Itachi said it was paved with the same smoothed stone used for the flooring throughout the prison.

 

That’s not a coincidence.

 

Not when the three of them crash-landing on Barrah was a fluke on all on its own.

 

And definitely not when whoever piloted that mercenary ship seemed to have already known where they were going to land.

 

That same bad feeling he first got about this place, yeah, it’s still there.  It still seems to keep getting worse.

 

The rock face leading to the main cave entrance, it’s pretty steep.  Takes a few good minutes to get up there.  That might buy them some time, too.  Plus, the time it’d take to work through the maze of tunnels to find them. 

 

Funny how it feels like he doesn’t have any time to be patient.  Although not really.  Because all he can do is wait.

 

He’s just waiting.

 

Still waiting.

 

Aside from a few failed attempts shifting his body to get more comfortable, he hasn’t moved much from his position.  Propped up on his elbows, lying directly on top of uneven bedrock only loosely covered by sand, no amount of repositioning could make this position any kind of comfortable, made impossibly worse by so much sand going in places it doesn’t need to go.  Never mind all the gravel poking him through his clothes, poking him in the stomach, scratching at his arms whenever he moves, whenever he doesn’t, making his skin itch.

 

Probably should’ve worn more than a sleeveless shirt under his windbreaker.

 

(Doubtful even Itachi could’ve seen this situation coming, though, so, really, he should only be so grateful Barrah didn’t turn out to be some frozen tundra of an ice planet all but covered in snow.)

 

He left his jacket with Sasuke, alongside some of the emergency blankets he’d brought from the ship, but he took a regular, thin blanket with him, the lightest one, to use as additional cover.  The blanket’s only large enough to cover his head and the upper half his body, but that’s good enough to give him some relief against the sun, good enough to lessen the chance of standing out even more than he would’ve without any cover at all.

 

It’s way too hot out here to use an emergency blanket, anyway, and it definitely wouldn’t do much to cushion his body against the jagged surface of the ground.

 

He found good spot to lie down, though, where he has the high ground, tucked away beneath a low overhang that gives him plenty of shade, close to the cliffside, perched on the highest shelf of the gorge, nearer to the furthermost point of a wide ledge, where he’s concealed from the immediate view of anyone heading towards him.  Gives him a good vantage point, too, allowing him to scope out a wide angle from the front, the only means of entry, since it’s nothing but solid rock behind him, going back at least five or six kilometres.

 

It’s also close to one of the less obvious entrances to the caves, specifically the room where he left Sasuke sleeping.

 

That too close brush with death aside, for now, Sasuke still seems okay.  If nothing else, at least he’s more stable.

 

He’s not as pale anymore.  His lips don’t have that bluish tint.

 

That’s something.

 

After Naruto woke up from his entirely too short nap, having gotten just enough sleep to keep him going, Sasuke did wake up a second time, but he was still pretty out of it, because he fell right back asleep; he barely made any noise, but there was a moment when he took a few seconds to open his eyes, shifting against Naruto, pausing with a slow sigh, the side of his head resting against Naruto’s shoulder, closing his eyes when Naruto’s arm loosened from around him.

 

Fortunately, his breathing had steadied enough, marginally better than it was before, but only in the sense that Naruto wasn’t as afraid of leaving Sasuke by himself.

 

He’s still aware of Sasuke.  He’s been checking on him every so often, subconsciously keeping an eye out for any irregular fluctuations in what he can sense from Sasuke’s magic or his empathy.  There’ve been a few spikes here and there, short instances when it was a little easier to sense Sasuke, although nothing major that would be any immediate cause for concern.

 

Which is good, because that means Sasuke’s magical signature has gotten stronger.  It’s still nowhere near what he’d prefer it to be, yet compared to how weak it actually was when Sasuke’s body shut down, and especially considering just how strong Naruto’s own sensory capabilities are, and the way Sasuke wouldn’t even respond to him before, or even Kyuubi—what little Naruto was able to sense from him then, during few times he wasn’t struggling to find a pulse, it might as well have been nothing.

 

Even though Sasuke says he views his elemental magic as separate from his life magic, Sasuke’s elemental magic always reads a little weird.  That’s how Naruto’s able to place Sasuke’s magical signature, even though it doesn’t give off the same kind of feel he gets from other magic users.

 

Generally speaking, magical signatures tend to fluctuate a lot.  The way they move, it’s almost like water in a glass that starts off half full, while someone’s walking around holding it, making it swish around the glass, occasionally drinking from it, occasionally pouring more water into it.

 

How much it fluctuates varies from person to person, but since magical energy keeps building if it’s not used, and typically is released before it reaches a breaking point, that’s the reason for the fluctuations.  While the same holds true even for really powerful magic users, those fluctuations are usually much more subtle; for the most part, the more powerful the magic user, the harder it is to sense their magical signature, because having higher sensory ability is tied with having higher magical ability.

 

Sasuke’s, though, it really is more of a constant.  That’s what’s always stood out the most, unless his life magic starts to interfere.  While his elemental magic doesn’t directly reflect his life force, it’s become a defining characteristic about his magical signature, that’s made it easier for Naruto to recognise him.

 

Unfortunately, Sasuke’s still healing a lot slower than he should, except that just seems to part be an on-going trend from whatever it is about Barrah that’s been making his magic go haywire.  But even without the aftermath of magical exhaustion to deal with, on top of everything else, Naruto wonders, if staying on Barrah for much longer, Sasuke would’ve still reached somewhere close to this point eventually.

 

Then again, if Sasuke hadn’t fixed the ship, at least he might’ve been able to use his shadow magic, to give them a better chance of possibly avoiding those mercenaries altogether.

 

It’s already one of Sasuke’s better elements, like fire, and seems to come a lot easier than earth or water, but since he did nearly deplete his life force, whether or not he’d be able to take on the strain of sustaining his cloaking technique on both of them, to at least get them far enough away from the caves without notice, Naruto doesn’t know.

 

Push comes to shove, he figures that’ll probably be their best bet, so the best thing he can do right now is let Sasuke rest as much as he can.

 

Better to prolong the inevitable, to let Sasuke recover as much as possible, and hopefully give Sasuke enough time to get his reserves back up—at least to the point where he’d be able to use his cloaking technique without the threat of passing out.

 

He could’ve woken Sasuke up earlier.  He could’ve tried making a run for the ship.  Except they would’ve been setting off with even more of a disadvantage, which, ultimately, might’ve put them in a scenario he wasn’t willing to risk.

 

With the condition Sasuke’s in, with the way everything seems to keep piling against them, there was just this feeling nagging at him, the kind of gut feeling that has yet to steer him wrong, something telling him they wouldn’t have made it very far; very rarely has he gone against his instincts, and that’s turned out to be a pretty good thing.

 

Even with the uncertainty surrounding the probability of running into unfriendlies, that was just simply too much of a risk for him to take, because it already takes four hours to get to the ship, weather permitting, and that’s only while maintaining a reasonably quick pace.

 

Having to physically support Sasuke, if it came down to carrying him again or not, either way, it’d slow them considerably, leaving them completely vulnerable if they did get caught out there, with nowhere to hide, helpless in the middle of wide, open terrain, nothing but sitting ducks.

 

They still don’t know why those mercenaries came here, or whether their objectives involve possible capture or kills, or if they even came here with the intention of finding them at all, but it’s safer to assume the worst.

 

Another one of those coincidences they can’t afford to ignore.

 

Way too many coincidences for anybody to be comfortable with.

 

At this point, it’s fair to say Sasuke’s down for the count, making him that much of a liability, and severely limiting Naruto’s options, simply because Naruto knows he won’t be able to worry about Sasuke, while facing a potentially hostile opposition on his own.

 

Whichever comes first, that’s why he’s waiting for Sasuke to wake up on his own.  Sasuke won’t be up to snuff any time soon after, that much Naruto can already tell, but he’ll take what he can get, over the alternative of Sasuke being too exhausted to even keep himself upright.

 

Hopefully, he won’t have to resort to waking Sasuke up, but he’s not going to hold his breath on that one.

 

It was a gamble coming back here at all, much more so after choosing to stay, but he’s already weighed the pros and the cons.  No use regretting it now.  And even if he did change his mind, he already missed his window of opportunity to do anything about it.

 

Itachi let him make the call, and didn’t disagree with his reasoning for deciding to wait it out, which basically came down to the fact that, because Sasuke had been unconscious for so long, and especially under these circumstances, there was just too much uncertainty to deal with, alongside having to rule out the possibility of linking up with Itachi and Juugo.

 

Admittedly, meeting Itachi and Juugo somewhere halfway, that a was pipe dream before he’d even told Sasuke about the unmarked ship landing, intentionally leaving out Itachi’s thoughts about the people after them being mercenaries.

 

Obviously, it also ruled out going back to the ship, seemingly their only sure way off this rock.  Made as much sense to stay then, as it does to go back now.  Diagnostic runs are almost done, though.  Most critical systems are back up.  He’s been following the diagnostic and self-repair logs through his PCD, getting periodic updates through the right lens of his goggles.

 

He’s almost afraid to jinx it, but as finicky as Tolstoy models are, as much as it was a pain in the ass even attempting to do manual repairs on his own, it’s sort of amazing how smoothly the process actually has been going since Sasuke did whatever he did.

 

Probably a few more hours until the ship reaches full standby mode, if it doesn’t hit any snags.

 

Biggest problem with that one, though, even with all the different setups he ran in his head, the defining factor in what ultimately keeps leading to a number of no-win scenarios, still goes back to the fact they’re not alone on Barrah.

 

Reaching the ship is his highest priority, but it’s more than just a matter of how he’s supposed to get them there.  Because the appearance of the ship itself, as far as being detected by technological means goes, relying on the deflection systems Sasuke rigged up is one thing.

 

If someone else actually gets to the ship first, well…

 

Shifting on his elbows, Naruto sighs, ignoring the sand and pieces of rock still sticking to his skin, reaching to adjust the thin blanket still covering his head.

 

Clearly, overthinking the situation isn’t helping.

 

But with nothing to do but think, this whole time seemingly all the time in the world, wrestling with his own growing doubts through the constant back and forth in his head, going around in circles retracing every step he’s taken on Barrah, every decision he’s made, too many thoughts going nowhere, making him grow more antsy by the minute, questioning where and when exactly it was that he slipped up.

 

_“If I knew he was going to pull something like that back there, if I knew he could even do that, I wouldn’t have—”_

_“It’s already done, Naruto.”_

 

_“Itachi, I…”_

_“It’s already done.”_

 

But if Sasuke hadn’t been able to raise the ship, if he hadn’t been able to get the engine systems back online again…

 

Honestly, he’s still a little pissed off at Sasuke, as upset as Kyuubi still is about him purposely trying to manipulate Sasuke’s life magic.

 

Although now that he has had more time to think about it, too much time spent reflecting on the consequences of his actions, what he actually did to Sasuke and what he caused Sasuke to go through, there’s still a small part of him that wonders, if the means he took truly could be justified by the ends—not just the potential outcomes, and even beyond the soundness of the decision itself, but the mere fact it was a choice he _decided_ to make.

 

Maybe he should’ve listened to Kyuubi.  Maybe Sasuke was right.  Maybe he really shouldn’t have done it.  However vulnerable he felt at the time, no matter how much it pained him to see Sasuke like that, for the first time in a long time, how afraid he was of losing him.

 

Yet even with what he knows now, despite how upset he was when Sasuke pushed him away, how much it actually _hurt_ when Sasuke told him to stay away, still, _still_ , Naruto can’t find it within himself to say he would’ve done anything differently.

 

Whatever kind of person that makes him, he doesn’t know.

 

He can tell himself he did it for Sasuke’s sake, since it wouldn’t be untrue, but this isn’t something Sasuke made him do.  This is something he did.  Never mind that it was done with good intentions. 

 

It was just that he assumed he’d be the only one affected, and that he was giving up his own life force to help Sasuke.  He truly hadn’t taken into account the possibility that Sasuke would react so badly.  But even though he hadn’t meant for it to happen, had only tried to get Sasuke to wake up, still, he’s the one who put Sasuke through it.  And despite the fact he did get Sasuke to wake up, having good intentions doesn’t automatically make something right.

 

Of course he already told Itachi.  He had to.  Not to say it wouldn’t have come out eventually, if he really wants to be optimistic about their current situation, but trying to keep something like that from Itachi, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

 

Even if it wasn’t something that had directly affected Sasuke, or if his attempt to wake Sasuke hadn’t worked out the way it did, Naruto still would’ve told Itachi; the type of guy Itachi is, he doesn’t trust blindly, and knowing how much trust Itachi willingly placed in him, still has in him, that really does mean a lot.

 

So, yeah, over this, he’d been expecting more than just another brief reprimand.  Considering what he’d done, he was actually expecting Itachi to be angry—not just bothered or annoyed, like what happened a few weeks ago, when Itachi caught him climbing through Sasuke’s window, but the kind of quiet fury Naruto’s only witnessed handful of times, the rare glimpses when he’s seen Itachi truly angry—except it’s not an anger that’s ever been directed at him before.

 

Even when he’d been on the receiving end of Itachi’s killing intent, Itachi quietly moving towards him, the hilt of his sword in hand, blade extended, when Itachi’s only warning came after the fact, while he was already on the offensive, calmly telling Naruto to _Prepare yourself_ , in the middle of his onslaught accusing Naruto of corrupting his little brother, and then powering up, actually _powering up_ on him.

 

All that aside, Naruto didn’t really believe Itachi was going to impale him with his sword.  And not just because Sasuke was the one standing between them, calling Naruto an idiot and telling him to shut up (because Naruto nervously rambling about safe sex and not corrupting Sasuke without a condom seriously wasn’t helping their position at all), while simultaneously doing his best to shield Naruto from Itachi’s admittedly half-hearted attacks.

 

Which Naruto was completely fine with, hiding behind Sasuke for protection at Itachi’s alarmingly calm declaration of _Die, Uzumaki_ , because if that was Itachi not actively trying to harm him…

 

For the record, though, Itachi did apologise…in his own Itachi way.  And really, Naruto was just as eager to put it all behind them, and go back to their very comfortable and causal relationship, which was why he quickly agreed not to bring up the sex he wasn’t having with Sasuke anymore, because Itachi saw to that, too.

 

Him and Sasuke, technically, they’re not minors in the legal sense.  And it wasn’t exactly that Itachi had a problem with them being more than just friends, because he said as much, not really surprised by their relationship going in that direction.

 

Mostly, he was disappointed that they hadn’t come to him first, or hadn’t at least told someone before doing things on their own, because there was no way of knowing what kind of emotional repercussions could result from an act as intimate as sex.

 

And Naruto got that.  As embarrassing a conversation as it was to have at the time with Sasuke beside him, and again when Itachi spoke to him alone, that much he did understand, especially in regards to Sasuke’s empathy, and the history already between them; some of it was due to the fact he was older, and someone Sasuke grew up being told to listen to, but namely because of how dependent Sasuke already was on him, Naruto being one of the very few constants in his life, and how that aspect would factor into any kind of relationship.

 

But the difference between then and now, between what could be chalked up to teenage experimentation and what was in essence him attempting to manipulate Sasuke’s magic, even if he didn’t think of it that way at the time, regardless of the situation, it still stands that he willingly took advantage of Sasuke.

 

That was more than reason enough for him to expect Itachi to be angry.

 

What he hadn’t been expecting, though, was for Itachi to be seemingly so nonchalant about it.

 

Itachi didn’t raise his voice.  He didn’t drag the issue out.  He didn’t bring up any of things he’d already told Naruto to do.  Just like last time, it was along the same lines of the response Itachi given him before—except this time didn’t even come with a reprimand.

 

How indifferent Itachi seemed about the whole thing, that honestly surprised him.  Not that he’d expected Itachi to lose his proverbial shit, but, save for a short pause in their conversation, Itachi hadn’t given him much else to go on, because Itachi didn’t even say anything about it.

 

And it wasn’t just the lack of anger, either.  There was nothing he could pick up from Itachi’s voice, no outward reaction whatsoever.  Itachi was the kind of rational most people expect him to be, even with matters involving Sasuke, still nothing less than professional about the situation.

 

Hell, he would’ve taken Itachi shouting at him, telling him off and handing him his ass for what he did, anything—just _something_ —because somehow, the total lack of emotion, that was the worst of it all, and far more foreboding than any kind of disappointment could ever be.

 

Instead, Itachi just wanted to know more about how Sasuke responded, how long he’d been in that sort of healing trance, how strongly Sasuke had been affected, and any differences Naruto could pick up from both Sasuke’s empathy and life magic.

 

The way Itachi glossed over the glaringly obvious issue, seemingly disregarding it altogether, it’s not that Naruto thought Itachi wasn’t worried.  Itachi’s concern for Sasuke, that’s never come into question, even if he can’t always read what Itachi’s thinking, because he knows Itachi more than well enough by now.

 

So, he knows Itachi’s been seriously worried about Sasuke.  Specifically, Itachi’s been worried about the growing toll repeatedly using life magic has taken on Sasuke.

 

Sasuke’s steady decline, it’s been a frequent topic of discussion between him and Itachi. They’ve been talking about it from the get-go.

 

But it didn’t start when Juugo told them about the collar.  It was even before that, following their first night in the caves, their second day on Barrah, the morning they went looking for Sasuke.  That was when they discovered the long and wide trail of scorched earth.

 

It didn’t look like the ground had been set on fire, though.  Judging by the burned marks left behind, it was more like that entire area had been struck by lightning, and somehow all at once, or at least in very quick increments too difficult to tell apart.

 

By that point, the marks themselves probably lost some of their depth, unevenly sparse in some places, especially after the most recent storm, but they were apparent enough to notice from a good distance, despite the temperamental winds that hadn’t completely blown away noticeably charred chunks of what was left of a dunemite sticking out from the sand.

 

Still, it was hard to miss a trail seared deep enough to reveal actual rock, especially in the middle of a desert seemingly plagued with sandstorms.

 

Any surrounding footprints had long since been covered, but unless there was another high-level lightning elemental, who just happened to be in the area, it was pretty safe to assume Sasuke was the cause of that particular display.

 

It also helped that Itachi had found the hilt of Sasuke’s retractable sword at what seemed to be the beginning of the trail, almost completely buried in the sand; Sasuke might’ve taken up the sword because of his family, mainly Itachi, but he’s learned to channel his life magic through it, too, which he had to have used, since there hadn’t been any convenient lightning storms nearby.

 

Despite how flippant Sasuke can be with his magic overall, to a certain extent, he’s relatively conservative with how much of it he actively uses at a time.  Building his endurance is something he’s still working on, and even during training sessions, he’s usually careful about how far he pushes himself, sticking to his own self-imposed limits not everyone agrees with, because he’s only allowed to train during arranged times and in specific places, and only under some kind of supervision, by people who can be trusted knowing the true capabilities of his magic.

 

Not counting how he managed to raise the ship, Sasuke doesn’t actually do a lot of the really big displays of elemental magic, since he’s always been more comfortable relying on his life magic and his ability to heal, so stumbling on that very large trail of scorched earth, it really was kind of a shock.

 

Sasuke’s potentially devastating brand of panic, whenever he gets emotionally overwhelmed, those times his life magic seizes on the opportunity to run rampant, when it really lashes out, it’s not always a pretty sight.

 

But then it’s also not something that’s happened a lot.

 

It’s only happened when Sasuke’s been completely overwhelmed, oversensitive to the point of not wanting to feel anything at all, so not that often, or at least not often enough that anyone’s ever felt the need to stage some kind of intervention.  The only thing is, that when it does happen, as disturbing as it already is watching Sasuke fall prey to his own magic, it’s the type of thing Sasuke always seems to have trouble remembering.

 

Stuff like that, the same way Sasuke can be about his Influence, sometimes, he just gets this weird, faraway look in his eyes, whenever he does try to remember, like he honestly _can’t_ understand what he’s done.  It never lasts for more than a couple seconds, anyway, but then it just disappears, like there’s some sort of mental block preventing him from thinking too much about it.

 

The whole situation with Juugo’s collar, he knows Itachi talked to Sasuke about that, when Itachi pulled Sasuke aside, leaving Juugo and Naruto alone to explore the caves, when Naruto first came across the murals he’d later shown Sasuke.

 

But he knows Itachi didn’t confront Sasuke about the scorch marks, because Itachi already told him not to it bring up to Sasuke, and while it’s not something Sasuke brought up, either, Itachi did warn him about the state of Sasuke’s magic; when Itachi and Sasuke were alone, Sasuke had unconsciously reached out to heal the slight, almost invisible scratches over Itachi’s arms, completely unaware of what he did afterward.

 

With that in mind, Naruto was a little more prepared when Sasuke tried to do it to him the first time, although that time Sasuke was unconsciously trying to heal a wound that wasn’t there.  It still scared him a little, though, to see Sasuke shaken up like that, after he snapped Sasuke out of it, and Sasuke realised what he’d almost done.

 

While he wasn’t trying to be too obvious with his concern, there wasn’t much he could do to assure Sasuke.  He tried to take away some of seriousness from the situation, tried for a joke about Sasuke’s old gloves that ultimately fell flat, and then moved to sit beside Sasuke, hiding his right arm from Sasuke’s view, so Sasuke would be less tempted to think about it.

 

Sasuke’s life magic, it really is that attuned to his emotions, driven by his empathy, paired with an instinctual drive to heal.  It’s still not as bad as when they were kids, but that’s just how prone Sasuke potentially can be to unconscious bouts of healing.

 

The other times, though, since they’ve been here, whenever Sasuke’s reached out for his hands, reaching out with his empathy instead, Naruto’s noticed how much calmer he is, even if it’s just for a moment or two, whether or not it’s on a subconscious level, how he uses those moments to let himself relax a little, using his innate sense to heal like an outlet for his nerves.

 

Although it wasn’t until after Sasuke found that lotus petal impression in the prison, conveniently revealing the hidden mechanism leading to the lab, that Itachi started giving him dailies again.  As drastic as it was, it was obvious Sasuke had already been overwhelmed by his emotions at least once, badly enough to retreat into his mind, and let his life magic take over—on top of whatever it is about Barrah that only seems to be affecting him.

 

While Naruto could’ve done it, too, Itachi made a point to give Sasuke the dailies himself, calm but firm during each long assessment, helping Sasuke walk through his emotions, without letting him avoid any of the questions, despite Sasuke’s apparent embarrassment.  But Itachi helped him work through that, too, only satisfied when he was able to draw direct answers from Sasuke acknowledging what he was feeling.

 

On his part, Naruto did attempt to give Sasuke some hint of privacy.  It wasn’t hard to guess how Sasuke felt about the situation, the same reason Itachi was so insistent about making sure Sasuke was honest about his own emotions, because Sasuke hasn’t needed to go through dailies in years.

 

But that was how worried Itachi was, still is. 

 

Which brings Naruto back to the significance of what he did to Sasuke, and why Itachi’s lack of reaction seems much worse, if not just completely out of place, because he’s seen Itachi react to comparably lesser things, even in situations where someone could barely be considered an indirect threat to Sasuke—because the guy really is that paranoid, and it’s not without good reason, knowing how far Itachi has gone to keep the brunt of it away from Sasuke, but maybe that alone is enough to substantiate Naruto’s lingering sense of guilt.

 

He didn’t try to make any excuses for it.  As much as he keeps going back to the way he kissed Sasuke, how long he’s been thinking about what it was like to feel actual _fear_ from Sasuke, watching Sasuke’s eyes already white blown wide open, but Sasuke just lying there in his arms, unable to move, Sasuke panicking because of _him_ , it all comes back to the same thing.

 

Yet even if he is wrong for doing it, beyond the reasons he chose to justify why he did it, if he had the chance to do it all over, he still would’ve done it again, even after listening to how Sasuke said it made him feel—the one part he actually didn’t tell Itachi.

 

It feels a little hypocritical to worry about taking advantage of Sasuke’s confidence in him after what he knowingly did, but Sasuke’s always trusted him with a lot of things, the kinds of things he wouldn’t necessarily think to tell Itachi first; when it comes to Sasuke’s magic and empathy, there are different aspects about them that Sasuke’s been embarrassed to admit, but those are the things Sasuke would confide in him about.

 

Of course there are certain things they’ve both agreed to tell Itachi, but Naruto doesn’t reveal everything about their conversations.  Sasuke knows he won’t, and Itachi doesn’t expect him to.

 

But getting Sasuke to wake up, that’s all that should matter, because Sasuke’s better now, and it’s not like Sasuke gave him much of a choice, anyway.  He won’t try to convince himself otherwise.

 

He doesn’t have time to second-guess himself.

 

He can’t afford to.

 

It’s already been two hours since his last contact with Itachi, two hours since their last check-in.

 

But he’s got an hour left to try again.

 

And Sasuke’s still sleeping.

 

With a sigh, Naruto shifts again, taking a short sip from his canteen.  It doesn’t do near enough to quench his thirst, but it’ll have to do for now.

 

Whatever it is Itachi might know about those mercenaries, he still hasn’t been willing to cop to it.  He’s been pretty tight-lipped about it, a lot more than Naruto would typically expect him to be.

 

The only reason Itachi even called them reinforcements, is because he suspected they were directly tied to the suicide scouter that crashed into them, probably tracked with some kind of device ahead of time.  Plus, all things considered, four days is still considered pretty damn fast in space.

 

No way they were sucked into Barrah’s gravitational sphere by accident.

 

What pushed Itachi over the edge about those guys being hostile mercenaries, though, whatever made Itachi think they were probably after him, it definitely has to be more than just the way they were dressed.

 

Even if Itachi never outright said it, Naruto’s not that oblivious.

 

Although Itachi doesn’t know everything, as much as it seems that way sometimes, there’s still a lot Itachi knows.  Half of it, Naruto’s not even sure he really does want to know, if the day ever came when Itachi was actually willing to tell him.

 

Itachi definitely has his reasons.  Having such a high security clearance mainly being one of them, but most of those reasons tend to end up involving Sasuke in some shape or form, which is why Naruto routinely refers to Itachi as borderline certifiable and a part-time conspiracy theorist.

 

There might’ve been a point where he actually had been joking, a time long, long ago he can’t remember, but ever since he was brought into the fold, still not even knowing the full extent of it, he’s still somehow surprised by what actually goes on out there, and just how much Itachi does to keep Sasuke from being exposed to the majority of it.

 

For a while, he used to be like Sasuke.  He didn’t know about any of it, either, the very wide range of interests people had in Sasuke, other than hearing for himself the usual assumptions people liked to make about Sasuke that he knew weren’t true.

 

And why would he?  As a kid, even as dedicated as he was to taking care of Sasuke then, no one expected him to be aware of those kinds of things, much less wanted to subject him to the darker aspects of society.

 

After the first peace summit, though, after that fateful stand-off with Orochimaru, he definitely started to pay more attention to how people viewed Sasuke.

 

Especially when Orochimaru somehow got Sasuke’s personal number, constantly trying to initiate contact, leaving these really creepy messages, along the lines of the same kinds of things Naruto had overheard at the peace summit.

 

It was one of those rare times Naruto saw Itachi truly angry, but it wasn’t like Itachi was the only one who’d been pissed.

 

Ultimately, Sasuke ended up having his number changed four times, before they found a way to lock Orochimaru out for good.  And despite that, despite having proof of Orochimaru’s harassment, they still couldn’t touch him for it.  Even then, Naruto knew that was sketchy as hell, an adult having that kind of persistent interest in a thirteen year old. 

 

But he’s not a kid anymore, and since he’s one of the few people often linked with Sasuke, finally in a position to actually do something to help keep Sasuke safe, he has to know those kinds of potential threats to Sasuke, and what to be on lookout for.

 

He doesn’t know how much Sasuke keeps up with, but a quick search on a PDH, or even watching the news, it’s not exactly hard to find information through some kind of media.  Sasuke doesn’t like all the attention, anyway, preferring to keep to himself whenever he can, since he didn’t choose to be some kind of celebrity, but it’s not like that’s ever stopped people from wanting to know more.

 

Even as sheltered as he’s been, Sasuke’s gotten popular enough to somehow have fan clubs without really having to do anything—as in he has more than one fan club that celebrates him just for existing.

 

Most of the time groups like that turn out harmless, even if too many are interested in Sasuke for his looks, which is a very weird thing to think about all on its own, but that still doesn’t mean there isn’t some seriously crazy shit out there.

 

While Naruto can honestly say he has his fair share of people placing too much interest in him, for his looks or otherwise, with Sasuke, it can quickly escalate into a very extreme level of obsessive.

 

It’s much more than the typical audience following rumours and tabloid gossip.  It’s people crawling all over each other, just itching to know as much as they can about him, desperate to get their hands on any little piece of information, a desperation only made worse over time, simply because Sasuke has been mostly kept out of the spotlight since it got out about his life magic.

 

Sasuke having life magic, and what him being a life user stands for, of course that’s still pretty important, even outside the magic user community, but it goes even deeper than that.

 

Way beyond any colourful gossip or the occasional passing interest in life magic here and there, with everything Naruto’s come to learn, all the confirmed reports he’s read through, there’s the really heavy stuff.

 

Including the cult-like fanatics, the infatuated stalkers, alongside the violent threats, the kidnapping attempts—and that’s still not even close to being all of it, too much of it already enough to truly turn his stomach.

 

Again, it’s just one of those things he’s not allowed to share with Sasuke.  And for everything he isn’t aware of, there’s that much more Sasuke hasn’t been told.  But that wasn’t just Itachi’s decision.  Sure, Itachi had been the one to suggest it early on, a few months before he decided to officially leave the active duty tours behind him, but it was still something both their parents also agreed on.

 

For more than half their lives, he and Sasuke have never been anything but close.  They’ve always had a lot in common, even had the same dream of one day becoming a fighter pilot, at least until they found out Sasuke wasn’t allowed to even try out for Academy, so it doesn’t sit right with him, keeping so much from Sasuke all the time, what more and more feels like practically everything, but then it’s not like he could bring himself to tell Sasuke, either.

 

Nobody needs to be constantly exposed to those kinds of things about themselves.

 

That’s why it still gets to him at times, whenever people talk about Sasuke likes he’s just an object for their curiosity or personal enjoyment, just something to be used or examined, in terms of how Sasuke’s magic or empathy can affect them.  No matter how many times Sasuke tells him not to get so worked up about things he can’t change, Naruto still can’t help it.

 

And even the people who don’t necessarily mean anything bad by it, like the ones who think Sasuke should just go around using his healing magic on anyone who does need help, and try to make Sasuke seem selfish for not doing it, they don’t even stop to consider what it’d mean for Sasuke to use his life magic like that, or even how being in that type of situation could affect someone like him.

 

As nice as it might sound in theory, Sasuke doesn’t even have the reserves to keep up with what he can do now.  Not to mention, there’s no way he’d be able to do it in time, reach everyone looking to him as a cure, much less have the energy to use his healing magic that much without passing out for a day or two, but Naruto doesn’t doubt some of those same people would probably be just as quick to blame Sasuke for not being able to do impossible.

 

Still, relatively speaking, it doesn’t seem that bad.  More on the annoying side, maybe, with how pushy some types of special interest groups can be.

 

Really, he can admit a big part of that annoyance has to do with own bias, because he’s been by Sasuke’s side from the very beginning, since Sasuke’s empathy started, but it’s also what’s made him a lot more cautious about other people getting close to Sasuke, and what’s made him glad Sasuke lives on base, where it’s less likely for things to go wrong.

 

It’s already out there that Sasuke’s empathy can affect non-magic users.  Orochimaru wasn’t the first person to talk about it, won’t be the last, either.  All the speculation surrounding Sasuke’s empathy, that’s been going on for the longest time, right alongside the euphoric effects of his healing magic.

 

Yet too many of those rumours hit too close to home.  Too many rumours some people don’t mind taking as fact.

 

Whether somebody really did let it slip about that aspect of Sasuke’s magic, or it really is the result of widespread rumours being repeated often enough for people to think they’re true, he doesn’t know.  He’ll probably never know.

 

But the first time Sasuke kissed him using his life magic, the first time Naruto had felt anything remotely close to Sasuke’s Influence, joking aside, when he compared the sensation to Ephemeral, he was being completely serious about it.

 

What he didn’t say, though, was that there _are_ people like that, people who already speculate about the same exact thing he’d felt.  But looking at Sasuke then, as upset as Sasuke already was about unintentionally hurting him, Naruto just…he just couldn’t. 

 

The idea of it alone brought all kinds of new fears to light, the seriously fucked up kind of shit he never once thought he’d find himself worrying about.

 

Not because he came up with it on his own, or even because he’s already seen it on reports, but because he’s actually _heard_ taped conversations about it.

 

He didn’t want to believe it at first.

 

He worries about it too much now.

 

He shouldn’t have to worry about it so much.

 

Of course Sasuke’s parents had already known.

 

Of course, his own parents already knew, too.

 

Itachi’s the one who sat him down, didn’t mince anything, somehow able to keep a straight face during that entire conversation with him.

 

In the end, that’s how he managed to convince himself it’d okay for him to keep those kinds of things from Sasuke, too, so many things he so often wishes he didn’t have to know, because he’s already started to feel less reluctant about intentionally withholding certain things he knows he’s allowed to say—but when has not knowing something ever made it less real?

 

He still doesn’t know how Itachi does it, how Itachi deals with it every day, both keeping Sasuke safe and ensuring Sasuke doesn’t find out about any of it.  He can’t even imagine what that has to be like for him, because Itachi’s the one who runs most of the interference behind the scenes.

 

It’s a major part of why Itachi originally took a step back, to essentially volunteer for this type of role that doesn’t formally exist.  Fortunately, he doesn’t have to do it alone.

 

By all accounts, to public knowledge, anyway, it seems like Itachi gave up a very promising field career to ultimately become a pencil pusher, no matter how unusual it is for someone his age to achieve such a highly ranked and influential position as an admiral.  But anyone who actually knows Itachi, already knows he does much more than that, very little that has to do with having a seemingly cushy desk job, and not all of it revolving around Sasuke.

 

Whatever does involve Sasuke, however much he might be seen as a very obvious weak point for Itachi (because seriously, that’s not even an open secret anymore), there’s still a line that a lot of people won’t willingly cross, because that would mean crossing Itachi directly.

 

In the grand scheme of things, right now at least, Sasuke’s not much more than a political pawn. They all know it.  Even Sasuke acknowledges that, as much as it continues to bother him.  A lot of it probably did stem from the fact Sasuke’s name is Uchiha, since there’s a long history there, both within and outside Sasuke’s family.  Much more of it now seems geared towards the fact that he’s Itachi younger brother.

 

Which does makes sense, considering who Itachi is.

 

Apart from a near blemish due to the incident surrounding Shisui’s death, the scandal caused by all the rumours that almost threatened to destroy Itachi’s public image, his record’s been spotless, cemented by a long list of accomplishments he achieved early on; from all the accolades he’s earned, the flight records he’s broken, the sheer number of successful missions he’s completed, having the kind of military career most people could only dream of—everything about him almost too good to be true.

 

Through the years, people genuinely have grown to like him.  The same kind of natural pull Naruto’s dad has, Itachi has that, too.

 

Despite the reputation he’s gained as a slave driver the field, and what’s sometimes mistaken for a cold demeanour, even despite being a shadow user, he inspires people to follow him, inspires people to want to be around him.

 

And not just in the military.

 

He’s gotten publicity on the civilian side, too.  The effect is kind of like how it is with Sasuke in a way, because Itachi help paints this idealistic picture of what the Alliance is supposed to represent, more than just a proven system people want to put their faith in, but the kind of world people are willing to fight for.

 

The AAF is both the largest government-funded organisation and the single largest employer throughout the Alliance, so it’s not surprising that so many do flock to the academies, hoping to be accepted in whatever capacity, based on their interests; with the size of its forces, the military acts more like a supportive presence, offering careers in a lot of advanced fields, especially in medicine and technology.

 

Really, there’s a place for everyone.  As long as they meet the requirements to pass basic field and combat training and graduate from one of the academies.

 

It’s just a little strange sometimes, hearing someone say they volunteered to sign up _because_ of Itachi, when he’s been close to Itachi for so much of his life.

 

And it’s even reached the point where there’s talk about possibly getting Itachi to run for office down the line, claiming he’s practically a shoo-in for a top position.  Supposedly, if he plays his cards right, keeps appeasing the right people, maybe even Head of State.

 

The politics of it all, it’s as simple as it gets.  Itachi’s known around very prominent circles to produce favourable outcomes.  More importantly, he keeps a bunch of people happy while doing it. 

 

But Itachi’s done a lot for the sake of Nagi, for the sake of the Alliance as a whole, so it’s not like he didn’t get ahead by his own merits.

 

The place where he is now, this sort of vague transitional phase, a lot of strings were obviously pulled, more than a few favours probably called in.  He really does have that kind of sway, whether it’s by his own hand or not, and it’s something he rarely has to initiate.

 

No question, he’s gained the kind of influence that’s more than enough to cause friction from within the ranks, which is where Sasuke comes in, since he’s one of the quickest ways to get to Itachi, but that same influence Itachi carries, it’s definitely more than enough to land a strategic position that allows him to make moves relatively unnoticed.

 

Based on his actions alone, Itachi doesn’t have a conventionally defined position; among his floating responsibilities, Naruto once saw him temporarily listed as a specialised instructor in advanced combat, which he never doubted Itachi was very qualified to be, except it was more of a side note that disappeared when Naruto checked Itachi’s public profile a few weeks later, right around the same span of time after Itachi had found Sakura.

 

And the thing with Sakura, she’s not even from one of the big families.  She’s the only known magic user in her family, on both sides, but there was something about her, something that had impressed Itachi enough for him to have sought her out like that, because there are definitely certain types of people Itachi will go out of his way to surround himself with.

 

He had her transferred from the Academy near Jushin in Leblanc, all the way from Sector 103, where she was already on the med track, already lined up for a career in R&D, but he somehow managed to convince her to give that up, and instead work toward applying for the advanced combat track, which she was eventually accepted into.

 

It probably wasn’t the first time Itachi actively scouted someone; general distrust of people aside, he’s still very much a tactical guy, and it wouldn’t surprise Naruto if Itachi’s been using his supposed desk position as a screen to do things like that all along, seeking out people he could trust to act as his eyes and ears in different places.

 

Since Itachi decided to step down from the front lines, it’s already been what—a little over five years?

 

That’s plenty of time for someone like him to make use of that strategy many times over.

 

But to be brought into Itachi’s inner circle, part of the select few as close to Itachi as Naruto’s ever seen him allow anyone else to be, at least outside their families, Naruto still considers that a pretty big feat.

 

Not that he’s actually heard Itachi refer to it as an inner circle before, and not that he actually knows more than the three people who he just assumed were in it, or that he can even begin to guess how many people really are involved, since Itachi still refuses to deny or confirm anything.

 

(It didn’t take long to learn there’s no point in asking questions he already knows Itachi won’t answer.  The guy’s just frustrating like that.)

 

Aside from Sakura, of course Neji and Sai are part of the inner circle, too.  He thinks.  But he’s not the only one.  While Sasuke might disagree with him on a lot more things now, sometimes a little too quick to tease Naruto about being too old to be so overdramatic, on this they both agree.  For someone as hands-on as Itachi to allow Neji and Sai to act as Sasuke’s guardians, to allow them to be that close to Sasuke, actually in line to take Itachi’s place, in the event Itachi wasn’t able to act on Sasuke’s interests, that’s something else entirely.

 

He knows Itachi met Neji and Sai during his time at the Academy, and that the three of them are around the same age.  By itself, that doesn’t necessarily have to mean much.  Yet even more than the simple fact Itachi had specifically chosen them to watch over Sasuke, he’d also introduced them to Sasuke and Naruto as safe adults, meaning Neji and Sai were people they could trust explicitly, because they knew the truth about the Sasuke’s life magic and about Naruto having Kyuubi.

 

Honestly, Naruto’s not that close to either of them, not close enough to have much of an opinion, even though, technically, watching over him is part of what they do, too, just not to the same extent as with Sasuke, but Sai and Neji have become fixed points in his life, dubbed by him and Sasuke as Shadow Number One and Shadow Number Two. 

 

Sasuke’s always been closer to them, which makes sense, considering how often he’s been around them in the past three years.  Originally, he was against it.  Despite his initial encounter with Orochimaru, around that time, Sasuke was reluctant about anything that might’ve drawn more attention to his magic or his empathy, something he’d been especially worried about since his last public episode, an empathetic attack right in the middle of a pretty sizeable spaceport, during an unexpected rush. 

 

It some took time for Sasuke to get used to it, having Neji and Sai acting as additional safeguards, more than just the run-of-the-mill bodyguards, but there wasn’t anything he could really do about it then.

 

He still calls them his occasional live-in minders, but that’s from when Sasuke couldn’t do as much on his own, when he couldn’t be left by himself, despite already living on base; the whole house arrest thing, for the stunt he pulled on Kakashi’s ship, that’s a separate issue, with Sasuke stuck having Neji and Sai watch over him again—not that it matters anymore, not here, but back home, Sasuke doesn’t have as many restrictions as he did before.

 

Usually, though, Neji and Sai both keep a considerate distance, which isn’t completely unexpected.  They mostly stay unseen, except for the few times Naruto and Sasuke purposely tried to lose them, although it’s more likely (especially knowing Sai),that they were probably just being humoured.

 

He also knows Neji’s a water elemental from the Hyuuga family, a name just as high profile as Uzumaki or Uchiha.  Unlike Sai, though, Neji’s a little stricter, a lot more uptight, a lot less inclined to entertain him and Sasuke when they were kids.  But Neji’s a pretty private person in general, even about using his techniques in front of other people, no matter how many times Naruto asked him to.

 

_“If my techniques are meant to be revealed to you, Naruto, then you’re meant to see my techniques.”_

_“…that just sounds like a copout to me.”_

 

(Honestly, even if he didn’t know Neji and Itachi went to the Academy together, it was more than obvious that Neji spent too much time around Itachi.)

 

Neji hasn’t exactly had many opportunities to use his magic, anyway, but it was still a little disappointing, since Naruto’s always liked seeing different techniques, even from people who don’t share his element.  Yet he also understands the reason for Neji’s reluctance, because it’s the same reason even he’s cautious about how freely he uses more than a couple techniques, including specific skills sets heavily associated with either side of his family. 

 

According to Sasuke, Sai just lives to be irritating on purpose.  Which Naruto wholeheartedly agrees with, because it’s true.  While in some ways Sai can be strict, too, about what he doesn’t let Sasuke get away with, or whatever news is floating around on base that Sasuke will ask him for, he’s a lot more relaxed about the off-hand comments he makes teasing Sasuke, taking it up as a pastime.

 

But as much as Sasuke will complain about him, he doesn’t seem too bothered whenever Sai’s around, since that’s really the only time he’ll interact with Sai, during those less common occasions while Sai’s on assignment.  The same with Neji, really, yet even so, it’s always seemed like Sasuke’s felt closer to Sai.

 

Not that Neji’s a bad guy or anything.  He might come across as a little standoffish sometimes, but that’s only because he does take his position so seriously, even during times when he could actually afford to relax a little.  Plus, with the ten year age gap, there’s not much they have in common.  Not to mention, looking after Sasuke, that’s a lot to ask from anyone.  Might as well call it a fulltime job.

 

To some extent, though, everything about Neji, the same can be said for Sai, including being secretive with certain techniques, but the underlying reason as to why Sasuke seems more open with Sai, Naruto thinks some of it has to do with Sai being a shadow user like Itachi.

 

Already three years since Neji and Sai came into their lives, it’s kind of amazing, since that first peace summit, just how much his perspective of the world has changed.

 

It was even funny at first, so easy to tease Sasuke about being given his own security detail, trying to make Sasuke feel better about the situation, because he still remembers believing they were leaving the worst of it behind them, that going home meant going far away from Orochimaru and people like him for good.

 

It’s not so funny anymore.

 

Mark that one off on the growing list of reasons why Itachi or his parents won’t tell him everything: so he won’t drive himself insane waiting for something bad to happen.

 

Sure, before that encounter with Orochimaru, because he was already exposed to a lot of things at that age, he did start to have some sort of vague idea about the kinds of threats posed to Sasuke, but there was still the possibility of many things that hadn’t even occurred to him yet.

 

His second year at the Academy had definitely been a wake-up call.

 

Even before he was accepted into the Academy, though, living on base, it’s like living in an entirely different world sometimes, mostly self-contained, save for Ise, the small little town closest to them, but otherwise very much isolated from the rest of civilization—too easy to forget sometimes, when they’re living on a secure military installation, and arguably one of the safest places for magic users to be.

 

(While there are other posts on Nagi, smaller bases, where satellite branches of the Academy operate out of, the Academy itself is part of the main base, one of the largest military installations in the Alliance, and also where HQ is, for all of Nagi’s official military operations or affairs; overall, it’s a little over 2500 square kilometres, so it’s a huge place, sectioned off into multiple areas based on access levels, with most of that access not granted to the public.)

 

Of course, it’s not without its problems, just like everywhere else.  But the worst kind of trouble most people typically get into, is going into the restricted zone of the Tomosada Bridge in Ise, sometimes even jumping off for shits and giggles.

 

It’s sort of like an unofficial rite of passage, making it all the way to the top, a celebratory trek for cadets who survive their first year at the Academy, and for magic users a chance to show off any special techniques—as long as they don’t get caught.

 

He doesn’t personally know anyone who’s been caught, since it’s an unmanned zone way out in the middle of nowhere, but even then, going there’s not enough to be grounded for a disciplinary offence.  Besides, the tradition’s been going on so long now, that most superiors have been pretty lenient about it.

 

Still, it’s a pretty quiet place to live, with most action actually happening off base.  In some aspects, maybe it’s even safer than living closer to the city, despite all the security already embedded for people heavily involved in government affairs, for people like his parents, for the majority of Sasuke’s family.

 

That’s where he and Sasuke both grew up, near the Capital, but it wasn’t until after Shisui died, when it got out that Sasuke was a life user, and alongside when Naruto started having problems with containing Kyuubi’s magic, that Itachi offered to take care of Sasuke, extending the offer to Naruto, too.

 

His dad had been staying on and off base for a while, anyway, but his and Sasuke’s parents agreed together it’d be better for them to eventually move there, too, since it provided a plausible excuse that helped them lay low in a more controlled environment, offered a more ingrained sort of seclusion, lessening the opportunities for others to pry.

 

The kind of protection assigned to Sasuke, though, the logistics of it all, how much was and still is actually involved behind the scenes, something to that extent, it’s lot easier to manage on base.  It’s also cheaper, takes up a lot less time and resources, costs a lot less money—or so he’s been told.  Otherwise, Sasuke really wouldn’t be able to do much of anything at all.

 

(At the end of the day, first and foremost, as comfortable as it is to refer to the base as home, it’s not just home to them, it’s home to thousands of people who are held to a higher regard, with certain standards, taught to follow more rigid protocols—both soldiers and civilian personnel who’ve had training preparing them for various scenarios, in how to handle different levels of emergencies, with a lot of active duty members already having extensive combat experience, including most of the Academy’s instructors, who’d be just as ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.

 

No, they’re not in the middle of a declared war, but that doesn’t mean people get to let their guard down during times of peace.)

 

So, really, for both him and Sasuke, the move on base, it just became another one of those precautious they simply learned to live with, part of a system of safeguards that had given him a welcoming sense of security he really did take for granted—a safety net that had been immediately ripped away from him, not even a few weeks into his second year at the Academy.

 

Naruto didn’t realise how much went on at first.  He couldn’t have known.  Not just about how many people pursued Sasuke in some shape or form, but also how frequent an occurrence that kind of thing actually was.

 

He was fourteen, only a little less naive, still very much fresh in every sense of the word, not unlike the other cadets remaining in his class, having survived what pretty much amounted to the prolonged boot camp that ended up being their first year at the Academy.

 

It was still new.  Different from what he was used to, but it was exciting, too, technically being on his own, almost like he really was an adult, not only for the sake of pursuing his dream, but also in a place where he really could grow stronger, for the sake of becoming much more capable in his ability to look after Sasuke.

 

Hands down, Nagi has one of the best academies throughout the entire Alliance, one of the most sought-after academies students decide to take their entrances exams for, offering one of the most—if not the most—rigorous and comprehensive programmes in the AAF, a secondary education spanning four years before a trainee is even eligible to attend a more specialised programme after graduation, with a chance to earn certain privileges along the way, although trainees are also require to declared their intended career track, before the start of their fourth year.

 

Being so highly competitive, naturally, there’s a lot of vetting that goes on, and the reason why it is such a big deal to earn that acceptance letter.  Having the right connections isn’t enough.  Plenty of failed students can confirm that, but beyond even passing the entrance exams, whether cadets can cut it to survive their first year, can survive instructors that could be just as demanding as someone like Itachi, that’s a different matter altogether.

 

What makes Nagi’s Academy truly unique, though, is the fact that a good portion of prospective cadets who apply are actually magic users; in fact, it’s known for having produced some of the most prolific magic users throughout the history of the Alliance.

 

Compared to similar places, Nagi’s always had a disproportionately large magic user community, making up a good forty percent of its inhabitants, compared to the average ten to fifteen percent usually found elsewhere—even taking into account the collective number of magic users registered through the Academy or on base, and including civilian recruits.

 

Still, despite have an unusually large magic community on base, Sasuke couldn’t help but stand out.

 

And of course, being so closely associated with Sasuke, having so often been seen with him, it wasn’t hard to make the connection, and once people did, it couldn’t be helped that they approached Naruto.

 

By his second year at the Academy, he was used to all the attention because of his relationship with Sasuke (more so than the attention he sometimes got because of his dad, which was a little surprising).  People were curious about what they didn’t know.  And there was no harm in answering innocent questions that didn’t require him to be specific.

 

It was easy enough for him to shrug it off.  Nine times out of ten, people actually weren’t that intrusive about it, or at least not intentionally.  If anything, they approached him because they weren’t trying to be direct about their interest in Sasuke.

 

And as far as Sasuke having to fend off any questions, it definitely helped that he was Uchiha Itachi’s little brother.  Based on Itachi’s reputation alone, even without Sasuke having his own security detail, in some instances, that was more than enough to give him a wide berth.  Openly approaching Sasuke at that time, it just wasn’t a thing.

 

But having already lived on base for a few years, Sasuke didn’t that attract that much attention anymore.  Maybe there were a few people here and there attracted to the idea, before the newness of getting to a see a life user wore off. 

 

There was one guy, though.  Saukon, he distinctly remembers, because it was the first time anyone had actively tried to get to Sasuke, through him.

 

It was actually Kiba who ran into Saukon first.  And it was through Kiba that Naruto got his first impression of the guy.

 

He’d grown to know Kiba pretty well by then, because they were part of the same entrance class, were assigned to the same squad, had become brothers in everything but blood, so when Kiba ranted to him about Saukon one day, complaining there just was _something_ about that pasty, arrogant bastard that instantly set off alarms in his head, Naruto wasn’t far behind.

 

Saukon was a second-year transfer (rare but not all that uncommon), a metal user, who apparently had a bone to pick with anyone at any given time for whatever reason, claiming the entire Academy needed to be taught a lesson; and during that time, it was seemingly Kiba’s turn, because Saukon kept openly challenging Kiba to an authorised scrimmage, trying to goad him into it by calling him names along the lines of earth trash and dog filth—in Kiba’s words, _the most fucking, irritating guy who ever followed him around trying to get his attention_.

 

Saukon saying those kinds of things just to piss him off, Kiba really did try to ignore him, eventually gave in to the challenge and ultimately did beat him, if only to _finally shut that arrogant asshole up_ , but even losing a match against Kiba only seemed to spur Saukon on more.

 

Really, the guy was more bark than bite, maybe a little faster and stronger than most, but definitively not at a rank that would normally make Naruto give him a second glance.  Although looking back, the only reason Saukon had even bothered with Kiba for so long, it was a roundabout way of bringing himself closer to Naruto, without the appearance of seeming deliberate in his attempt to get close to Sasuke.  At least at first.

 

It took a few more days for Saukon to approach him.  Initially, Naruto had planned to avoid him, wanted no part of anything that had to do with an already off-putting guy who went out of his way using overpowered techniques to show off at every opportunity, but instead of challenging him to a scrimmage, instead of the insults Naruto had been expecting, Saukon wasn’t as confrontational, somewhat less quick-tempered (if anyone could call it that), even carelessly mentioning Sasuke, in his supposed list of the few things a place like Nagi still had going for it.

 

Despite Saukon’s short but already well-established track record at the Academy, the interest seemed innocent enough.  Not that Naruto took him up on that particular line of conversation, but he was almost ready to pass it off as the sort of general curiosity about Sasuke most people ended up coming to him for.

 

But then the comments kept getting stranger, little things Saukon would say while passing Naruto during the short breaks between class, sometimes even catching him either before or after school, when Saukon started to share his speculations about Sasuke—not necessarily anything too personal, but it began to happen too often for him to simply write off, said more and more increasingly disturbing things, sometimes spiteful, remarks made offhand Naruto knew were intended to provoke him, because Saukon always said those kinds of things with a slight tilt of his head down, constantly wearing that smirk it’d be all too easy for Naruto to knock off with his fist.

 

_(Showing mercy to such an undesirable human, you’re being too soft about these threats to Sachi, Naruto.  Dispose of him, and be done with it.)_

 

That one instance he caught Saukon mumbling to himself about coffins and pets aside, what also alarmed Naruto, was how inconsistent Saukon was about his opinion of Sasuke, this pattern in the way he began to describe Sasuke, which apparently led to the belief that it’d be a good idea to bring Itachi into the equation.

 

Saukon had gone from calling Sasuke things like weakling and trash, referring to him as the runt of the Uchiha family; to saying things like Sasuke was meant for a different purpose, a higher purpose, started referring to him exclusively as Itachi’s foolish younger brother; and even went as far referring to Itachi as Sasuke’s wise older brother—erratic as his comments already were, as if something like that wouldn’t have immediately drawn even more suspicion about his too obvious interest in Sasuke.

 

Whatever crazy complex that guy had going on, Naruto sure as hell wasn’t going to allow him anywhere near Sasuke.

 

While there were already procedures in place to report these kinds of incidents, for any kind of harassment, since most things involving Sasuke also involved exceptions, Naruto skipped the usual channels for cadets and went straight to Itachi.  Did it the second he thought that Saukon guy was some kind of stalker.

 

(Which didn’t take long at all, considering how much Saukon kept trying to bring up Sasuke, in the span of only a few days, how openly he started to talk about Sasuke in general, bordering on obsession, trying entirely too hard to put himself on Naruto’s radar.)

 

But it wasn’t done out of petty suspicion, or even had anything to do with his usual irritation with people who liked to put Sasuke down, no matter how many times Saukon had gotten on his nerves.

 

No, he really did feel the situation had the potential to be that serious.

 

And he was right.

 

Turned out Saukon wasn’t just talking about Sasuke to him.  Not getting the desired reaction, eventually, Saukon started asking around base, asking other cadets who happened to know Naruto, and being far too eager about it, enough to set a lot more people than Naruto on edge.  He’d grown impatient, short of outright saying he wanted to meet Sasuke in person, sometimes asking about the places where Sasuke would normally be seen, completely careless with that half-baked attempt at recon, but then Naruto also learned it was something Itachi was already well aware of, well before Saukon supposedly made the official transfer to the Academy.

 

Whatever Saukon was trying to do, whoever sent him, he was ridiculously clumsy about the whole thing, or maybe just that cocky about his ability to gather information, but even if Naruto hadn’t stumbled into him by chance, Itachi already had feelers out there, and had apparently been tracking Saukon’s movements for a while.

 

And it wasn’t just about following the standard paper trail.  Itachi and his team, they had _everything_ on Saukon.  Months’ worth of intel that laid out Saukon’s habits, his daily routines, from his favourite restaurants, right down to the day he’d been forced to change laundry services because one of his alleged contacts, Tayuya, had gotten into a physical altercation with the owner.

 

Yet he’d been under suspicion even before the requested transfer, which had apparently been initiated by an outside entity, anyway, another party already suspected to be involved in some kind of money-funnelling scheme.

 

It was just a matter of Saukon’s communications tipping off the right people, on top of a series of wire transfers being automatically flagged by the system, due to multiple attempts to bypass the legal maximum of transfers allowed within a certain period, not to mention the lack of required documentation along the way.  That information was sent to the Financial Oversight Committee, immediately picked up by someone from Itachi’s team, and then finally relayed to Itachi.

 

Ultimately, it was discovered a Federation-based bank had been frequently tied to a supposed non-profit research organisation that regularly received donations from one of Orochimaru’s charity holdings.  What that had to do with Saukon, as much of a coincidence that kind of connection didn’t seem be, even in such a remote way, Naruto never would’ve imagined Orochimaru being involved with Saukon’s appearance at the Academy.

 

Which, based on what could actually be proven, meant Orochimaru wasn’t involved at all.

 

According to Itachi, the operation was exceptionally sloppy, by anyone’s standards, and especially in comparison to the slew of prior attempts that had been made, but Orochimaru didn’t seem to care much about who he hired, as long as it couldn’t be directly traced back to him.

 

It was all still very new to Naruto.  More than just a little overwhelming to think about, hard to fully grasp the scope of that kind of the thing, the actual scale of what it takes  behind the scenes to keep Sasuke, and the implications of what it entailed, because with that insight came the sudden understanding of how much he truly didn’t know.

 

It really did go that deep.

 

Yet throughout the entire thing, Itachi had simply been biding his time, simply told Naruto to keep him informed, while waiting for the opportune moment to strike.  Truth be told, that was probably one of the more shocking aspects of it, almost as unexpected as the idea of Orochimaru’s involvement.

 

Not to say he thought Itachi would ever intentionally jeopardise Sasuke’s safety, or put Sasuke in a situation he didn’t believe Sasuke could handle.  And it wasn’t unusual to plant false intel, or use someone as a lure to draw out a target, especially in order to gain additional information.  That was a common enough tactic. 

 

But it could be a very fine line sometimes, that slippery a slope, almost inescapable, the sort of moral, grey area Itachi operates in, and not just when it comes to Sasuke, or even the benefit of their sector, because Itachi’s dealt with a lot of issues geared towards the greater good of the Alliance, placed in the kind of position where he has been forced to make hard choices no one else wants to make.

 

Naruto was old enough to understand that much, had matured enough past his childish view painting the world as either black or white, whatever misgivings he felt about the situation as a whole, since he couldn’t ignore the reality of the world they lived in.  Knowing what Itachi had done didn’t lessen his opinion of him.

 

All the same, for all the inspired rumours about him, it was Naruto’s first glimpse into that calculating side of Itachi, a surprisingly ruthless aspect of his personality he honestly hadn’t been prepared for, so much different from the more characteristically gentle Itachi he grew up with—the Itachi who didn’t mind taking care of him, despite his busy schedule would still find ways to make time for him, even without Sasuke there, this truly gentle guy who became an older brother figure he trusted with everything, felt he could turn to for anything, and couldn’t help but look up to.

 

And yet that more familiar side of Itachi, the Itachi he knew from the type of the relationship they’ve always had, Naruto also began to realise it was something Itachi really couldn’t afford to let most people know.

 

That type of thing, being seen as too kind, openly displaying those sorts of emotional attachments, particularly for someone in Itachi’s position, it could be perceived as a weakness.

 

But it also went to show what someone like Itachi was truly capable of, able to play the game with the best of them, just as willing to blur the line, as he as was unwilling to compromise his priorities, which obviously included protecting his brother.

 

The day Saukon was pulled out of the Academy—so easily overlooked because there hadn’t been any fanfare, with Saukon having been detained in the middle of the day without warning, not given the chance to cause a scene—it also happened during the week Sasuke was visiting his parents at the Capital, because his monthly check-in with Iyashi had been rescheduled.

 

And if Naruto hadn’t had those strange run-ins with Saukon, if he hadn’t believed Saukon could’ve posed a serious threat to Sasuke, he probably wouldn’t have known anything about it.  However, this time, it wasn’t strictly on Itachi.

 

There’d been a growing debate between his parents, about whether or not to allow him to get involved, if he even needed to be involved, since he was only fourteen.  But while he could understand where his parents where coming from, not wanting to put that additional responsibility on him, from just simply knowing, he still argued that he did have a right to know, because how could he help protect Sasuke, if he was being kept out of the loop?

 

He still wasn’t being told everything, but he appreciated at least being clued in to some things, liked it a lot more than going up against any possible threats toward Sasuke blind; he was given a brief account of the types of dangers out there facing Sasuke (a pretty tame version compared to some of the more awful things he’d learn later on), taught the signs to look out for, how to gauge different threat levels, shown that list of people unofficially in the know—seeing Iyashi on the list wasn’t surprising, or even seeing Kakashi, but seeing Iruka there, that one threw him off.

 

All that time, he’d severely underestimated the amount of attention Sasuke would attract, how much interest he’d receive and the kinds of people who’d be interested in him.  Just as severely, he’d underestimated how many people it took to keep everything under wraps. 

 

The incident with Saukon was the catalyst that really started to change him, started to change the way he saw Sasuke, the first of many reasons why less and less he started telling Sasuke things.

 

Especially at that time, because it seemed like things were finally looking up for Sasuke.

 

He still had to wear those specialised gloves.  He still couldn’t anywhere on his own.  But that was the year his parents started letting go to more places on base.  That was the year he met Tenten, and his friendship with her, how close they grew to each other (which was probably as sociable as Sasuke was going to get), it really did help him recover from what happened with his most recent public episode the year before.

 

Outside that context, thought, for anyone else, it really wasn’t much.  Even at that point, Sasuke was still being homeschooled, since having life magic still hadn’t gotten to step inside an actual classroom with other kids his age.  That seemingly simple kind of visibility was a luxury he didn’t have, because he was better protected by not having any noticeable, established routines.  There were still too many risks.  And especially with his abilities, even on base, it was still too unpredictable.  It just wasn’t safe.

 

But gradually being able to do more things, and, more importantly, being able to do more of the things he wanted to do, like having less obviously supervised visits to the library to meet Tenten, having a friend who wasn’t part of their world, and didn’t have any connection to Naruto or Itachi, or to anyone in their families—why that meant so much to him, Sasuke wouldn’t say it, but Naruto could tell.

 

More than just the idea of finally having something to himself, Sasuke was finally being given his own sense of independence, being allowed to even do some of the things other kids around him didn’t stop to think twice about, and it was amazing to see just how _content_ he was, the more reserved kind of excitement that still brightened dark eyes, and it reminded him so much of the Sasuke he used to know, those afternoons they spent together in Sasuke’s hospital room, both of them chasing imaginary stars, those days when it seemed like they had their whole world at their feet.

 

And so to tell Sasuke about Saukon, not just the things Saukon said about him, but to cement the price of being a life user, the harshness of a reality that had consumed everything Sasuke once knew, what he’d probably have to deal with for the rest of his life, to pull the wool from over his eyes right then and there...

 

Naruto didn’t have the heart to do it.

 

Yet even if he wanted to, it wouldn’t have mattered because he’d already been told he wasn’t going to.

 

The decision to continue keeping Sasuke in the dark, despite Naruto having been brought into the fold, that one was all on Itachi.  Even for Mikoto and Fugaku, more than just with situations surrounding Sasuke’s safety, when it comes to Sasuke’s overall wellbeing, they do depend a lot on Itachi’s input.

 

While Naruto will acknowledge he’s had his own part to play, he’s still on the fence about it.  He didn’t question Itachi then, doesn’t believe for a second Itachi would do anything without first getting the all clear, but he doesn’t always agree with the way Itachi handles things, wary of the way sometimes Sasuke gets used as a means to further Itachi’s intended objective.  Then again, Itachi’s end game hasn’t changed, and most of the time it’s an endgame Naruto is rarely able to immediately see, because rarely does he have all the information, much less anything about the inner workings of what goes on behind closed doors.

 

Questioning the legality of what Itachi does, however, how much he’s apparently been sanctioned to do, again, it’s a very muddied area, although what government hasn’t done things for the so-called greater good?  What person can honestly say they haven’t at least toed the line every now and then, or unconsciously put their needs above others, because they thought they were doing it for the sake of something bigger than themselves?

 

But the issue around how Saukon was dealt with, being able to plan so far ahead, that Itachi even had the resources to pull it off, how many people must’ve been in on it all along, seemingly overlooking things to lure Saukon into a false sense of security, as awed as Naruto was knowing Itachi had been heading so many surveillance and interference operations that were just as, if not more extensive, it definitely hit home how very broad Itachi’s reach was, and the stark effect of exactly how much political influence he’s gained over the years.

 

Not to say Itachi can’t have political ambitions, but being in such a politically influential position, it’s definitely not solely for his benefit.  Maybe a little out of family obligations, maintaining the Uchiha’s standing in an environment they’ve traditionally been part of since day one.  Absolutely to secure Sasuke’s continued safety within the Alliance.  To shield him from the same kind of politically-minded people who would try to undermine those protections specifically in place for Sasuke.

 

If he doesn’t have to, Itachi’s not the kind of guy who likes to compromise, not so secretly despises being backed into a corner.  He’s already proven his allegiance to the Alliance, with his actions reflecting a steadfast devotion many times over, but Sasuke still comes first.  And Itachi’s told him as much.  It just so happens that ensuring Sasuke's safety is a stipulation that frequently coincides with the interests of the Alliance.

 

There are many things Itachi didn’t want to participate in.  There are many inconsistencies he doesn’t agree with, a darker side to the Alliance that’s often brought his own morals into question, a number of personal sacrifices he’s had no choice but to make, simply because he knows his actions or inactions will directly have an adverse effect on Sasuke.

 

If their positions were reversed, Naruto doesn’t know what he’d do.  Just being around Sasuke is a full-time job.  And then some.  He doesn’t know how he’d be able to cope.

 

_“It’s because I have Sasuke.  Because I know my little brother needs me.  I don’t yet regret the decision not to be so open with him, but I do hope that one day in the future I’ll...”_

_“Itachi?”_

_“It’s nothing, Naruto.  I shouldn’t burden you with unnecessary things.”_

_“You know I don’t have any problems listening to you.  It means a lot that you even let me hear what you have to say.  And even though I can’t understand everything you’re going through, protecting Sasuke, I want to do what I can to help, too.  That’s why I have to do even better, why I still have to keep getting stronger.  Not just to protect Sasuke, but so you don’t have to bear so much of it alone.”_

_“Naruto, you...”_

_“See?  All those times you go on and on, I really do listen to you.”_

 

However uncertain Naruto might feel about some of the decisions Itachi’s made regarding Sasuke, the same kind of strength he’s always seen in his dad, the kind of strength that’s less about being physically strong, and more about being able to make those seemingly impossible choices, he sees it in Itachi, too, so he can’t help but admire Itachi for his convictions, being able to move forward with that kind of assuredness in spite of the consequences, because that’s the kind of person he’s always wanted to be, the kind of person who doesn’t depend on physical strength to prove that they’re strong.

 

He used to think like that when he was younger, used to think wanting to get stronger meant needing to be more powerful physically.  He’d already decided to get stronger for the sake of protecting Sasuke, and was that much more determined to do whatever he thought it took, in order to keep Sasuke safe.

 

While he can admit he still gets more than just a little up in arms when it comes to most things concerning Sasuke (although in no way as bad as Sasuke likes to make it out to be), he used to get real defensive about it before, back when he first started to pay closer attention to what other kids around their age were saying about Sasuke, after it got out about Sasuke’s life magic, while Sasuke was still stuck at the hospital, on an undisclosed floor, in that ward all by himself.

 

Being so defensive on Sasuke’s behalf, the first time he actually got in trouble for it was when he was ten, in fourth grade, right before his first class held in homeroom; but it was also the last time he got in trouble for it, because it was the last time he let someone else’s words allow his anger to get the best of him.

 

It really did use to get to him, though, an anger gradually building every time someone would say things about Sasuke behind Sasuke’s back, and when they’d make all these baseless claims about Sasuke without even trying to get to know him—the Sasuke who kept pushing himself hard, even though he was still afraid of being too close to other people, afraid of another empathetic attack waiting around the corner, the same Sasuke who would smile so easily at him, waiting to hear about Naruto’s day in school, excited to tell Naruto all the new things he was learning about his life magic.

 

People who treated Sasuke like that, like he wasn’t even his own person with feelings, they didn’t get to see Sasuke’s shy smiles slowly begin to grow into more confident grins, didn’t see the way Sasuke would train through both mental and physical exhaustion, how much he really was trying to get better, trying to overcome his own fears about being around other people, about being touched, anything to deal with experiencing emotions, when his episodes became less and less a matter of time, and something, for the most part, he could eventually put behind him.

 

Not counting the occasional prank pulled for attention (in his very honest opinion the very harmless kind of vandalism around the neighbourhood he’d still get unfairly chewed out for, even if he did get caught red-handed using his magic to move a thing or two), admittedly, as impulsive as Naruto might at times seem now, he was definitely more hot-tempered back in grade school.

 

Getting into a one-sided fight over Sasuke, with some kid he barely knew, he can’t even remember everything being said that he thought was so bad.  Mostly stuff along the lines of Sasuke not being a real magic user, about Sasuke being weak, being too sensitive, being a crybaby who didn’t deserve so much special treatment just because he was part of the Uchiha family, and all the grownups didn’t want to hurt his feelings—the kinds of mean things kids _just tended to say_ , but the first time anyone had said anything mean about Sasuke in front of him.

 

He remembers seeing red, though, remembers holding that kid down and demanding he took back what he said about Sasuke because he already knew it wasn’t true.

 

It started innocently enough with just a few words, a couple kids talking too loudly about Sasuke, openly making fun of him, probably parroting what they heard from their parents, childish interpretations of whatever rumours that had probably been floating around, not fully understanding what they were saying, but that didn’t matter to Naruto at the time, because they were still saying bad things about Sasuke.

 

He didn’t know who started it, but the kid who made the loudest noise and kept it going, the kid whose name he’d eventually forget, Naruto immediately singled him out.

 

He shoved him, told him to stop talking like that about someone he’d never even met before, but then the kid said no, kept calling Sasuke names, right in Naruto’s face kept saying what he’d do to Sasuke when Sasuke got back, promised to make Sasuke cry in front of their whole school, despite Naruto’s demands for him to stop, just kept mocking Sasuke, so Naruto shoved him again, hard enough to land them both on the floor, where he held the other kid down by the shoulder, where he already had his other hand raised into a fist, threatening to hit him if he didn’t take it all back.

 

When their teacher finally came running in, shouting at them to stop, she had to physically lift Naruto away.  And even then, the other kid wasn’t fazed, standing up and scoffing, but when he noticed the magic gathering at Naruto’s feet, slowly starting to spread to the rest of the room, he was quick to run off, cowering behind the other students who had circled around to watch them.

 

Generally speaking, the kid wasn’t actually hurt, since Naruto hadn’t done much more than shove him, hadn’t actually punched him or used any magic on him, but while the other kid was told off for the things he said, that still meant Naruto alone was sent to the counsellor’s office, where he was forced to talk about his apparent anger issues, while waiting for his parents to pick him up.

 

He ended up being suspended for three days, and not only had to make up all the work he’d miss, but also had to write a formal apology he’d have to present to that kid, and a short paper to give the counsellor, showing that he understood why what he did was wrong.

 

Worse than being angry, even though there was a good bit of that, too, his parents were disappointed in him, and while he was too young to comprehend the potential gravity of the situation then, considering his parents’ positions, it didn’t reflect well on them, either—something he did that really could’ve had a detrimental effect on their political careers and any future aspirations.

 

Except standing up for Sasuke when Sasuke couldn’t stand up for himself, not letting other people pick on Sasuke when Sasuke wasn’t even there, Naruto didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.

 

When he told his parents, they weren’t too surprised by his declaration, despite still being disappointed.  What really caught them off guard, however, was when he crossed his arms in defiance, and firmly defended his actions by bringing up the fact they were the ones who taught him it wasn’t right to say things about people that weren’t true, especially bad things, so that meant he had to do the right thing, by being responsible, and making sure the other kids stopped picking on Sasuke like that.

 

What if next time they actually went through with trying to hurt Sasuke like they said they would—actually did hurt Sasuke?  Things like that always started off small, so that was why he had to keep getting stronger, because if he was going to be the one to take care of Sasuke, like he’d already promised, he couldn’t just let the small stuff slide.

 

Eyes wide in surprise, his mom made a funny sort of coughing noise, hand moving to cover the weirdest little twitch at the corner of her mouth, shoulders slightly shaking, as she shared a meaningful look with his dad, the kind of knowing glance that went completely over Naruto’s head then.

 

Straightening her shoulders, she cleared her throat, quickly putting on a stern expression Naruto faced only slightly wavering.  “You’re still grounded for two weeks, little Uzumaki.  Two weeks,” she said, holding up two fingers for emphasis.

 

“As much as you are my son, _clearly_ , this kind of behaviour is never acceptable, all right.”  She leaned down toward him, reaching with her finger and thumb to gently pull at his cheek.

 

At the face he made in response, she gave a faint grin, a fleeting sort of expression as she released his cheek and placed a kiss on his forehead, before gently ruffling his hair, an all too familiar gesture Naruto forced himself to ignore, keeping his arms crossed, not giving in to the urge to reach out and smooth down his hair like he really wanted to.

 

“Yeah, you’re definitely our kid, Naruto.”  She let up on his hair with a soft snort, standing taller, but watching him with a thoughtful look.  “But you still have a lot more to learn.  There’s still a lot more room for you to grow,” she said, adding almost absently, “and since it’s your dad’s turn this time, I’ll let him take care to explain the rest for now, okay.”

 

The far from discreet, almost helpless sounding splutter that came from his dad, that went completely ignored.

 

“Anyway...”  His mom brought her hands together with a loud clap.  “Suddenly, I think I’m in the mood for some shio ramen.”

 

As she turned to leave, she began to trail off, her voice fading with the explanation that she was going to ask their personal chef, Gulden, if he wouldn’t mind making her some.

 

His mom and dad would later visit the conversation again, together, to reinforce the difference between doing the right thing and taking out his anger on others, but during that moment, when his mom had left them alone, he only turned to his dad, not sure how to respond to the slightly wide-eyed expression on his dad’s usually more composed face.

 

“Ah, well, what your mom said, what I think she meant…”

 

“Explain the rest about what?”  Slowly, Naruto uncrossed his arms, letting them fall at his sides.  He frowned, brow furrowed, gaze searching, looking into blue eyes that were just like his own.  “What’s wrong with standing up for Sasuke?”

 

His dad paused, holding back from the words he was going to say, only for a moment still, before he blinked, and his expression began to change, turned serious with a heavy sort of sigh.

 

“I know you were only standing up for Sasuke,” he said, “but even though you did it for the right reasons, what you did was still wrong.”

 

“But how is me standing up for Sasuke wrong?  If that’s wrong, then what am I supposed to do when people say bad things about Sasuke, things that I know aren’t true?  Let them keep saying it?

 

“The other kids who were talking about him, they’ve never even met him, but the way they still thought it was okay to just say those kinds of things, even saying it’d be funny if one of them made Sasuke cry—even after I kept telling them to stop first, that’s why I had to do something.  I couldn’t let them do that, Dad.  It wasn’t right.”

 

“I know, Naruto.  And I understand how you feel, because I’m not saying what they did was right, either, but words are never a basis for violence.  Your mom and I have never taught you that.  We’ve never taught you violence is an acceptable answer.  No matter what someone says, that doesn’t give you the right to attack them, do you understand?”

 

“But, I was just—”

 

“ _Naruto._ ”

 

“…yeah.” 

 

“Do you understand?”

 

“Yes.”  Naruto bit at his lip, lowering his head, unclenching both hands he’d curled into fists.

 

“Hey, listen.”  His dad kneeled in front of him, still standing on his heels, bringing himself eyelevel, so when Naruto looked up, he wouldn’t have to strain to meet his dad’s gaze.  “I’m not saying this to make you feel like a bad person, okay.  I’m saying this because I want you to learn from what happened.

 

“Yes, you had good intentions, but having good intentions doesn’t necessarily mean what you’re doing is right.  Good or bad, there will always be consequences to your actions, so I need to make sure you understand what you did wrong and why you shouldn’t do it again.  It’s okay to make mistakes, but it’s just as important that we take the time to learn from them.

 

“And it doesn’t mean you’re not a good person, Naruto.  Me and your mom, we know that you really want to be a good person, that you always try to do the right thing.  As your parents, that’s what we’re here for, to teach you, because we just want to help you become even better—the best you can be.

 

“But sometimes,” his dad said, “sometimes the right choice isn’t always the easiest choice to make, or even the easiest one to see.

 

“We’re proud of you for wanting to get stronger so you can take care of Sasuke.  We’re proud of you for having such a selfless goal and working towards meeting it all on your own.

 

“But there’re different kinds of strength, Naruto.  Having strength doesn’t always mean being physically strong.  Sometimes being strong really means having to make hard choices.”

 

“But what happened today,” Naruto said, “it's just, when they were making fun of Sasuke, how I can just ignore something like that, when I _know_ it’s not right?”

 

“Even when you know it’s not right, that doesn’t mean you have to react to what other people do.  That doesn’t mean you should let other people have so much influence over your choices, Naruto, because there will be serious consequences to your actions.”

 

Naruto shifted on his feet, mouth turned into a slight frown.  “I know I’m going to have a lot of make-up work to do, but...”

 

“Okay, let’s try putting it this way.  For now, not only is your punishment being suspended from school, but you’re also being grounded at home.  How do you think you’ll be able to visit Sasuke?”

 

Naruto's eyes grew wide, his mouth parting with a small gasp.  “I know I’m in trouble and everything, but you’re not even going to let me see Sasuke?”

 

“Since you haven't had any problems like this before, this time is different, because it's your first time getting into trouble for fighting like this.  And your mom and I know why you did it.  We understand you were just trying to do the right thing.  If there’s a next time, though, we won't be so forgiving, even for Sasuke's sake.

 

“Does that help put things into perspective?”

 

Naruto lowered his head, fingers of his right hand fumbling with the cuff of his left jacket sleeve, subdued by the firm tone of his dad’s voice, and the thought of not being able to see Sasuke because of something he did.  “...yes.”

 

“As much as you worry about Sasuke, you’re lucky, Naruto, very lucky, that no one was seriously hurt this time, because you really could’ve hurt someone, even without your magic.  And that’s something you’d never be able to take back.

 

“Is that the kind of person you want to be?  Is that how you want other people to see you—is that how you want Sasuke to see you?”

 

“No.”  Naruto gave a few quick shakes of his head, still looking down at the floor.  “No, I don’t want anyone to see me like that.  I don’t want Sasuke to think of me like that.”

 

“That’s why you can’t let words provoke you.  And it’s not just Sasuke you have to worry about.   You have to worry about yourself, too, all right.  We’ve had this talk before, why you have to be careful, why you have to make sure you keep your magic contained.

 

“There are always going to be people who say and do things you might not necessarily like.  People who are going to have opinions you won’t agree with, and people who are going to disagree with you and won't like what you do.”

 

Naruto blinks at his feet.  “That happens with you, too?”

 

“Of course it does.  It happens with everyone.  But being a good person sometimes means listening to what other people have to say, even if you don't agree with them.  It also means not attacking them, or pushing them aside because they don't agree with you, even if you know it’s not the right thing.”

 

“I don’t see how that’s fair.”

 

 “A lot of times, life isn’t going to seem fair.  That’s just something you can’t escape, but it _is_ up to you,” his dad said, giving Naruto a light poke to the chest that failed to get him to look up, “to make the right choices.

 

“You’re getting older, now.  You’ll be eleven soon.  And a big part of growing up, a big part of becoming stronger, is learning how to choose your battles wisely, and learning how to plan further than the moment you’re living in.  Even though you can’t change everything around you, you can still make changes that count.”

 

“…doesn’t seem like it,” Naruto muttered.  “It wasn’t just that they were saying bad things about Sasuke.  They were laughing about him, too, you know.  And no matter how many times I kept telling them to stop making fun of him, they still wouldn’t listen.  They didn’t even care.  I don’t get it.  How can they just not...

 

Shutting his eyes, Naruto sniffed, breath hitched, as he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

“I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry.  I didn’t mean to get mad like that.  I didn’t mean to make it look like I was trying to hurt anybody, but they don’t see Sasuke at the hospital, so I don’t understand how they can say things without knowing what Sasuke has to go through, all the things he can’t do anymore, and I…”

 

“Me and your mom, I guess we must’ve done something right, because you really are a remarkable kid, you know that.  It’s already enough to know you’re ours, but every day, you always find a way to surprise us.”

 

Naruto gave another sniff, this time using the cuff of his jacket sleeve wipe at the last of the snot from his nose, but when he raised his head, opening his eyes, he was met with a soft smile.

 

“You’re a very strong-willed person, Naruto, a good person, and we don’t want you to ever lose that part of yourself.

 

“No matter what life throws at you, I hope that’s something you’ll always hold on to, because it’s something a lot of people don’t have.  You’re getting there, Naruto—you’ll get there.  Give yourself time, and don’t be in such a rush to grow up, all right.”

 

“I guess that makes sense.” 

 

 His dad gave an amused snort.  “You guess that makes sense?”

 

Naruto’s shoulders heaved with a dramatic sigh.  “Yeah, Dad, I mean, that’s nice.  I understand, now.  I won’t try to grow up too fast, and I won’t threaten to hit anybody anymore, no matter what they say about Sasuke, but it’s still Sasuke, Dad.  Who’s going to take care of him if I don’t?”

 

“Oh?”  There was a slight twitch to the corner of his dad’s mouth, as he watched Naruto with both eyebrows raised.  “Suddenly, you’re the only one who can take care of Sasuke?”

 

Naruto responded with a firm nod.  “Yep.”

 

“But if what happened today happens again, who’s going to look after Sasuke?”

 

“Still me.” 

 

At his dad’s look of surprise, Naruto simply cocked his head.  “I’m always going to look out for Sasuke.  I already told you.  I won’t get in trouble for that again, because I don’t want other people to see me as that kind of person, and I don’t want Sasuke to think that’s the kind of person I want to be.  But even if something does happen to me, I’m still going to find a way to be there for him.”

 

There was another one of those brief pauses between them, followed by another amused snort from his dad, one that turned into soft laughter, wrapped into a warm smile, as he reached to ruffle Naruto’s hair.

 

“I believe in you, Naruto.  Always.”

 

Naruto made a face, making sure to take the time to use both hands to smooth down his hair.

 

 “So...” he began slowly, lowering his arms, placing his hands behind his back as he balanced back and forth on his heels, glancing to the side.  “Does that mean I get to go see Sasuke, now?”

 

Out came yet another less than discreet splutter, as his dad began to stand, stuttering, nearly stumbling on the way up, the complete opposite of the diplomatic image people had come to expect of him, except Naruto already knew the truth about how totally uncool his old man was most of the time.

 

“Eh, well, you’re already suspended from school for a few days, and since you’re supposed to be grounded for starting a fight at school…”

 

Rubbing the back of his neck, his dad gave a nervous laugh, paired with an even more sheepish smile, losing any and all semblance of the stern parental figure from only moments ago, gaze darting around Naruto’s room, unable to look Naruto in the eye.  “Which is to say, um, I mean…uh, let’s go ask your mom about that one, okay.”

 

For every awkward moment, his dad has been known to offer sage advice from time to time, most times, so Naruto’s never held his dad’s less apparent shortcomings against him.

 

That whole situation could’ve turned out much different.  He still doesn’t know what happened to that kid, wherever he might be now, doesn’t care to find out.  He already apologised, already moved on to more important things.

 

And if one of those things wasn’t about Sasuke, usually, it was about making sure he worked on keeping his magic contained.

 

He didn’t actually start having problems until he was nine, but the first time he really lost a significant amount of control, when he almost let his emotions completely consume him, a time he still doesn’t like to talk about, and a time Sasuke still won’t push him about, he was twelve.

 

It was toward the end of his last year in middle school, about three weeks before the Academy held its annual entrance exam, and then Naruto had honestly started to worry that his scores wouldn’t be high enough to get in it.

 

Even with the sense of responsibility he felt for Sasuke, it was still his dream to go to the Academy, to be just like his dad, as much as it used to be Sasuke’s dream to go there, too, to be just like Itachi.

 

His parents told him not to be so hard on himself, that he didn’t need to push himself beyond exhaustion, because it was too dangerous, especially to even reach that point for someone with his reserves.  Again and again, they tried to assure him that it was just a minor setback, an obstacle he’d eventually be able to overcome with time, but he didn’t have time.  Three weeks wasn’t enough time to fix a problem he’d already been having for the past month.

 

Because if he wasn’t strong enough to protect Sasuke from people who really could hurt him, the kinds of people he began to notice were less likely to just stop at trying to tear Sasuke down with words, the kinds of adults who had power, adults he and Sasuke grew up around, more interested in what Sasuke’s magic could for them, the same adults their parents and Itachi would stress couldn’t be trusted.

 

If he wasn’t strong enough to protect Sasuke from people like that, not entitled kids who called Sasuke names, but from people who actually stood on the same level as both their families, maybe even have the power to take Sasuke away, that meant he’d be breaking his promise, that he’d be letting everyone down.

 

He’d be letting Sasuke down.

 

And he couldn’t do that to Sasuke.

 

He wasn’t going to let Sasuke be alone again.

 

All those insecurities, all those maybes, whether or not what he was doing was where really he should be, they just continued to pile on, doubts he was too embarrassed to share, even with his parents, especially with Sasuke, already decided it’d be better to keep it all to himself.

 

It all came to a head during a session with one of the assistant instructors at the Academy, Mizuki.

 

Although Mizuki liked to boast about being water elemental, he was still an extremely low-level magic user; if there was an F rank, that was where he probably would’ve been placed.  He barely made it into the Academy the first time around, and even after all those years in the military, despite his position as Iruka’s assistant, a job he just barely scraped by enough to get, he was still a basic grunt in everything but name.

 

Alongside that huge chip on his shoulder, he already had some kind of personal vendetta against Iruka (maybe even against Naruto’s dad, too), but he also had something against anyone stronger than him, meaning most people on base, including first-year cadets, because he was the kind of coward who only picked on people he knew wouldn’t fight back.

 

Eventually, he got reassigned elsewhere for other reasons, and Naruto didn’t hear about him again, not until that botched support mission on Doraf—the last anyone would ever hear from him.

 

Before he took the entrance exam, though, Naruto signed up to take the practice preliminary courses the Academy usually offered beforehand, something his parents suggested he could do, to get a better idea of what he’d be expected of him during the exams, since he was so worried about failing, and Mizuki was the assistant instructor assigned to help him.

 

He knew he wasn’t able to use the full extent of his magic, because he couldn’t afford to draw that kind of attention to himself, which would ultimately risk drawing attention to Kyuubi.  Yet, instead of intentionally holding back he was used to, he was having issues using his magic at all.  As hard as he’d been training to have a better command of it, despite all the progress he had made, his magic just wouldn’t work the way it normally would.

 

Mizuki used the fact that he was struggling against him, said more than a few things that really got to him, while he was supposedly helping Naruto with a practice version the exam, one of the practical portions, where magical ability’s typically measured.

 

It was in secret, never in front of other people, but during those optional, one-on-one supplementary sessions, Mizuki would say things to him like, he’d never be as good as his someone like his dad, that he was a disgrace, a poor excuse for a magic user, an absolute waste of the Uzumaki name.

Unsurprisingly, Kyuubi wasn’t just angry.  He was _vicious_ , ready to rip Mizuki apart, even getting on Naruto simply for not allowing him to tear that utterly despicable human limb from limb, which Naruto was pretty sure he probably would, if he didn’t know better not to give Kyuubi that chance, but hearing those kinds of things, or maybe because he was hearing them from an adult, and maybe because he was just at that age, whatever the reason, it really got to him.

 

He’d been pushing himself for years trying to get stronger, trying to be someone that really could protect Sasuke, someone that Sasuke could always rely on, the kind of person Sasuke could look up to, and suddenly faced with an inability to even use his magic at will, instead of making him angry, Mizuki’s words, they just made him feel ashamed.

 

He just felt so worthless, so useless.  He actually did start to believe Mizuki.  He started to believe he’d never be able to live up to the legacies of his mom and dad.  With his magic not responding to him, short-circuiting between wisps of air or sudden gusts of wind, and sometimes nothing at all, he was having trouble keeping up in class.  He was falling behind with even the most basic exercises—worse, exercises far less advanced than the techniques his dad had already taught him.

 

It was hard enough having to deal with Kyuubi’s conflicting emotions, bloodthirsty in his desire to maim Mizuki, yet just as fierce in his desire to make sure Naruto knew those things Mizuki said weren’t true, but even with Kyuubi’s continued assurances, his unexpected show of more open concern, it didn’t help. 

 

After hearing those things from Mizuki so many times, that day, when his magic accidentally knocked Mizuki to the ground, when an irritated Mizuki stared him down and called him a _monster_ , said it was only a matter of time before he hurt someone else, too, would eventually hurt everyone around him, Naruto was already ashamed to the point that he didn’t even think of telling anybody. 

 

It really felt like he let everyone down, let Sasuke down.  He was a failure who’d never amount to anything.  If he wasn’t strong enough to control his own magic, how was he going to keep his promise to take care of Sasuke?  How could Sasuke ever depend on someone so useless?  Someone who ended up so worthless?  How could Sasuke look up to someone who turned out to be a _monster_?

 

Because more than just not being able to control his magic, he wasn’t able to control Kyuubi’s.  It was too dangerous for him to be around Sasuke, for him to be around anyone, just like Mizuki said, and since he already hurt Mizuki with his magic, he...

 

He planned on running away that day.  Decided to skip class that afternoon in the hopes that no one would notice he was gone until it was too late, until he was already far, far away, in a place where he didn’t think anyone would find him, past the emptied training fields, at the very edge of perimeter surrounding the entire installation, to the foot of the abandoned valley marked off by two old statues, overgrown with tall grass and weeds.

 

And yet Sasuke was able to find him.

 

Somehow, Sasuke still found him.

 

Before anyone noticed Naruto was missing, something told Sasuke to go looking for him.  So he did.  He snuck off to look for Naruto.  He even used the shadow magic he wasn’t supposed to use, magic he still wasn’t that good at using yet.

 

By then, Naruto had already started to withdraw to his mind, was on the verge of allowing Kyuubi to roam free, Kyuubi’s magic already beginning to peel at his skin, the slow growth of Kyuubi’s claws turned from Naruto’s fingers pressing down deeper against dry soil, sinking further and further into the ground.

 

But when he saw in the distance Sasuke walking toward him, there was still left a mindful part of him that immediately fought to regain control, a fearful part of him straining to push Kyuubi back beneath the surface, his entire body on fire, trembling, barely able to hold himself up on his hands and knees, even more overwhelmed trying to suppress the sheer power of Kyuubi’s raw magic that had created a clear ring of destruction around him.

 

He shouted at Sasuke to stay back, to stay away from him, because Kyuubi was getting angrier, between a mantra of threats to kill that vile and wretched _human_ , demanding to be released, with a near feral roar demanding that Naruto needed to let him take over, to let him do what simply needed to be done, but Sasuke just kept coming, watching him so calmly, almost curiously, so strangely unmoved, unafraid despite Naruto’s obvious lapse in control.

 

“You were going to leave.  I could feel it.  You were sad, Naruto.  But I don’t...I don’t understand.  Why were you going to—”

 

“What’re you still—I already told not to come any closer!   You have to stay away from me because I’m going to hurt you!  I don’t want to hu—”

 

“I know it still hurts right now, but it’ll be okay.”

 

“You need to stay back, Sasuke!  Stay back!  I can’t—”

 

As scared as he was of hurting Sasuke, Sasuke still wasn’t scared of being hurt by him.

 

And when Sasuke stopped in front of him, simply dropped to his knees before him, dark eyes holding steady Naruto’s fearful gaze, as Sasuke reached out to touch him, without looking away, gently placed his hand over Naruto’s own—Naruto noticed Kyuubi’s magic _wasn’t_ hurting him.

 

It bubbled between Sasuke’s fingers, from the back of Sasuke’s hand, coiled around his wrist, didn’t go past his forearm, seemed to cover Sasuke like a second skin.

 

But it didn’t hurt him.

 

And just like that, Naruto could actually feel the same magic shielding him beginning to subside, in the back of his mind could actually feel Kyuubi bristle, with one last heated roar, eventually relaxing into a more displeased calm.

 

“Everything’s okay,” Sasuke whispered soft, oddly soothing, and Naruto couldn’t help but find himself starting to relax, too, allowing himself to be comforted by the familiar sway of Sasuke’s empathy.  “I know how to make everything okay, now.”

 

“Sasuke, what...”

 

“I can do it.  He’ll be okay.”

 

It didn’t make sense.  As sure as Sasuke seemed, that convinced of his ability to do whatever he was talking about it, there was something Naruto was obviously missing.

 

What was it Sasuke knew how to do?  And make what okay?

 

And the way Sasuke was staring at him, it was like he wasn’t even talking to him anymore, watching Naruto with a far-off gaze, like he wasn’t really seeing him, but there was no way Sasuke could be talking to—

 

“…it’s Kyuubi.”  There was a sort of awe in Sasuke’s voice, with the slight tilt of his head, an almost nostalgic sense of wonder.  “Kyuubi’s here.  All this time, he’s been here with you, Naruto.”

 

“But I never...how can you even know ab—”

 

Gloved hands rose to carefully frame Naruto’s face, refreshingly cool against his skin, as dark eyes grew larger, gradually overtaken by white, Sasuke leaning closer, peering into him, seemingly able to see right through him.

 

“I know why he’s like this with you.  And I know I can fix it.  You haven’t always been this…but I think he’s always wanted to meet you.  Do you want to meet him, too?” 

 

“Fix what?  And meet who?  What are you—”

 

“I’ll show you.”

 

Naruto startled, before he could ask anything else, the press of Sasuke’s forehead a gentle touch light against his own, a flash of white suddenly enveloping everything around them, somehow pulling them into this place he’d only ever seen inside his dreams.

 

He didn’t really understand how it worked, how Kyuubi was sealed into him, even with the way his mom had tried to explain it, because why anyone would be chosen as a vessel, it really did seem like something that just happened at random, some indiscriminate force determining both when and where a tailed beast should be.

 

But he’d always known Kyuubi was there, before he even knew who Kyuubi was, had always wanted to believe Kyuubi was more than just this giant, golden-red fox he’d imagined.

 

And there Kyuubi was, right in front of him, in that same large dimly lit space he’d always seen him.  And there Sasuke was, right beside him, seemingly as unaffected as Naruto was still a little shaken, Naruto so very lost about what he was even supposed to do, although still ready to step in and break up whatever weird staring contest was going on between Sasuke and Kyuubi.

 

Surprisingly, it was Kyuubi who broke it first, unexpectedly gave in grudgingly with the most incredibly slight downward tilt of his chin, lips curled into a snarl that came more across as an annoyed huff, rather than anything intimidating to Naruto, and, apparently, to Sasuke, too.

 

Sasuke simply continued watch to him, keeping a polite, almost respectful distance, alarmingly at ease about the entire situation, despite Naruto very much struggling, trying his hardest to wrap his head around any of it.

 

But then Sasuke began to step back, quietly stepping away from both of them, like he was trying to give them space, and no sooner had the glare trained on Sasuke been set on Naruto, immediately focused on him a narrowed gaze that marginally softened, followed by a low rumble that Naruto could swear sounded like his own name.

 

It was one thing to hear Kyuubi in the back of his mind, to see him in his dreams, to interact with him, to talk to him, usually just as the voice in his head, but this…to actually be this close to Kyuubi—not just some illusion in his mind, but someone he’d felt such deep connection to for the longest time, a constant presence that had seemingly been a part of him since before he could even remember, to see for himself that Kyuubi was actually _real_.

 

And when he met Kyuubi’s gaze, it was like Naruto couldn’t even remember how to breathe.

 

His parents hadn’t said anything about him being able to meet Kyuubi like this one day, or mentioned anyone in the Uzumaki family being able to do something like this, but they were still right.  Kyuubi was so much more than just magic, so much more than anything he would’ve thought possible, and finally getting to meet Kyuubi…

 

He swallowed, taking a tentative step forward.  If his eyes were getting a little too wet, nobody called him out on it, but him and Kyuubi, the two of them, they weren’t that far apart, not really.

 

Kyuubi began to lower himself, relaxed on all fours, tails movingly softly behind him, barely making any noise in the expectant silence between them.  Waiting for Naruto to come to him, he wasn’t usually this patient, not with most things, but maybe this time...

 

Slowly lifting his hand, Naruto gave a shaky laugh, took another hesitant toward him, suddenly afraid his hand would go right through reaching for him—he let out a soft gasp, when Kyuubi finally closed the small gap between them, the tip of his snout lightly nuzzling Naruto’s palm, silently encouraging him closer.

 

This wasn’t just some illusion in his mind.  It was an actual, physical sensation.  He was touching Kyuubi.  He was actually _touching_ Kyuubi.

 

As massive as Kyuubi had already appeared in his dreams, though, somehow, he seemed so much bigger in person.  Louder, too, with a low purr that resonated with the warm feeling growing in Naruto’s chest, a strange sort of ache that almost made him feel like his heart was going to burst.  And the way Kyuubi could be so careful with him, to see this side of a Kyuubi who truly did care about him, as much he’d come to care about—

 

Naruto gave another laugh, still a little uneven, but this time more assured, thoughts interrupted by Kyuubi’s signature huff, because those were the kinds of thoughts that rarely failed to make Kyuubi uncomfortable.

 

_Of course, I’m real, Naruto.  When have I said otherwise?  There’s no need to cry over something I’ve already told you._

“Shut up, you stuck-up, cranky old fox.”  Naruto smiled wide through his tears, absently patting Kyuubi’s chin, while with his free hand he began wiping at the corners of his eyes.

 

“Stop being such a know-it-all, and let me have this moment with you in peace, all right.”

 

He didn’t know how Sasuke did it, but...

 

Suddenly, Naruto was pulled away from Kyuubi.  Immediately, his first thought went to Sasuke. 

 

“Sasuke, are you—”

 

“I’m fine.” 

 

Except Sasuke wasn’t fine.  He was anything but okay.  His breathing was heavy.  His eyes were half-lidded, flickering between dark and brief flashes of white, as Sasuke started to sway forward, quickly began to fall—fell into Naruto’s arms that reached out to catch him, sagged into the arms placed around him, breathed in too harshly as he leaned on Naruto to support all of his weight.

 

Naruto pulled Sasuke closer toward him, probably holding him a little too tight, although honestly, still in a sort of daze, still trying to process what Sasuke did, allowing him to meet Kyuubi, taking them both to what he’d later learn was his subconscious.

 

But the burns on his skin Kyuubi had unintentionally caused, burned him all over the fire from Kyuubi’s raw magic that had nearly stripped his flesh, he didn’t forget about those, either, because now they were gone.

 

During the time he and Sasuke were with Kyuubi, Sasuke had healed him completely.

 

Any traces of Kyuubi’s magic, of Kyuubi almost escaping, nothing, like it was never there.

 

Including the clear ring of once deadened field around them.

 

“...how’d you do this?”

 

“...because Kyuubi said you...and I just…”  Sasuke turned his head fallen over Naruto’s shoulder, breath soft against Naruto’s neck, fingers loosely curled around the material of Naruto’s jacket sleeve.

 

There was another harsh intake of breath, abrupt, Sasuke’s entire body gone still, fingers gripping tighter before his hand went lax, eyes already closed, having passed out from exhaustion, from using too much of his life magic, and maybe even something more.

 

Sasuke was out for a good three days.  Naruto made sure to be there when Sasuke woke up, and one of the first things he asked, was if Sasuke was upset about it, the fact he had kept a big secret like Kyuubi from him, but Sasuke, he just, even though he couldn’t say how he knew about Kyuubi, or what he’d done, somehow he already understood, because that day Sasuke had been talking to Kyuubi, too.

 

_“You really can talk to him?”_

_“He doesn’t appreciate it, but yeah.  If he wants to talk to me, he’ll talk to me.”_

_“Why now, though?  All that time before...”_

_“Because Kyuubi wasn’t ready.”_

_“For what?”_

_“...to meet me, I guess?  I don’t know.  I just did what felt right to do. Because I already knew what to do.  Something told me that I had to fi—but that still doesn’t make up for the fact you were leaving, Naruto.  You weren’t even going to tell me.  And you just...”_

_“Sasuke, I thought—I didn’t want to hurt you.  I was trying to protect you.”_

_“...I don’t need for you to protect me like that anymore, Naruto.  What good is trying to protect me, if it only means you’re just going to leave me behind?”_

 

What Sasuke did that day, it was like he fixed whatever apparent mental blocks there had been in Naruto and Kyuubi’s connection, despite the closeness already between them.

 

It wasn’t an instantaneous fix, but Naruto started to gain a better sense of who Kyuubi was, a better sense of both his and Kyuubi’s magic, which in turn helped him to control his abilities, as he found ways to tap into Kyuubi’s magic, without having it overwhelm his own.

 

He was also able to see Kyuubi any time, learned how to initiate their conversations with a mental nudge at will to check on him, meeting Kyuubi in the same large area that had since grown into a better lit, much more open space, more than twice its original size, alongside a large wall, creating a room that gave Kyuubi his own privacy, even away from Naruto.

 

And not just that.  Kyuubi’s behaviour toward Sasuke also started to change.

 

Way before the two of them met, Kyuubi had already started warming up to Sasuke, if only because Sasuke had become such a constant in Naruto’s life.  How developing a grudging tolerance for Sasuke gradually turned into a passive aggressive, and even sometimes volatile concern, for a former, self-proclaimed embodiment of hatred, it was just…in a less direct way.

 

But it wasn’t something he thought Kyuubi really minded it, either, even if Kyuubi refused to be straightforward about it.  Even before that day, he had already started calling Sasuke funny names, mostly Sachi, sometimes going back and forth between that and Shakti, rarely Sasuke’s actual name, unless he believed the seriousness of situation called for it.

 

_Because he is Sachi.  And Sachi is Shakti.  That is how it’s come to be._

 

(Considering Kyuubi’s own seeming inability to use Sasuke’s name, it was amazing he even had the nerve to get so upset over hearing Juugo calling Sasuke Shiva; he was already on guard about the way Juugo’s collar had affected Sasuke’s life magic, but the way he got so miffed about the whole Shiva thing, the couple of times Juugo did call Sasuke that, it was like Kyuubi took it as some kind of personal insult.)

 

Even more than that, though, being close to Sasuke, Kyuubi seemed calmer, almost content.  He started paying more attention to Sasuke, too.  While Kyuubi had already been drawn to Sasuke life’s magic, he became increasingly more responsive to Sasuke’s empathy, at times consciously seeking Sasuke’s presence, even without Naruto being near Sasuke, would pace outside his room sometimes, until he could sense Sasuke, determine for himself Sasuke wasn’t in any immediate danger.

 

The more time he spent with Sasuke, the less Kyuubi would complain about Sasuke being around Naruto so much. 

 

It was all circular reasoning, really.

 

 _Because he’s_ That _Uchiha Sasuke._

 

“I don’t get it, though.  You like when he’s around you, but you don’t like being around him?”

 

_Yes._

 

“You don’t dislike him, either.”

 

_For now, perhaps._

 

“I know how you feel about people in general, but you already know Sasuke’s not like other people.  He’s always been one of ours.  You’ve never said you hated him or anything close to that.  He’s never even done anything to you, so why...”

 

If anything, Kyuubi was the one who ultimately convinced him he wouldn’t be able to hurt Sasuke again, that it’d be okay to visit Sasuke in the hospital, after Sasuke had his first empathetic attack.  Kyuubi was the one who quietly sat in on Sasuke’s therapy sessions with Naruto, would curl up beneath his tails, pretend not to listen while reminding Naruto to be patient, because Sachi was still too young.

 

_Not yet._

 

But despite Kyuubi’s lingering apprehensions, although Naruto wasn’t trying to dismiss how Kyuubi felt, he seriously couldn’t believe Sasuke would willingly do anything to hurt or take advantage of Kyuubi.  Not the Sasuke he knew.  He just couldn’t.  And he told Kyuubi as much.

 

_I can’t be certain of why I feel as such, Naruto.  Only that this is something I do know._

 

“...something to do with your past?”

 

 _Sachi’s still descended from_ them _, those Uchiha.  And yet Sachi, it’s unexpected that he is pure, that his magic is pure, and not so perverted.  But his magic is Shakti’s.  It is not within my power to harm Shakti.  I have_ never _harmed Shakti.  It is something I will not and cannot do._

 

When Naruto again tried to ask him who Shakti was, the significance of either name (because they weren’t from any living language known on record), Kyuubi simply gave him the same _Sachi is Shakti_ response—seriously, like a thirteen year old Naruto was supposed to understand something like that with no context whatsoever. 

 

And he still doesn’t understand it.

 

Kyuubi’s no different.  He still doesn’t know why he feels so at ease near Sasuke, doesn’t really like to openly acknowledge the relationship between them, because with it came a heightened sense of familiarity.  He’ll only say it’s something that just _is_ , a certainty as inescapable as it is incomprehensible, undeniably, there is something about Sachi—Shakti—that more and more compels him to Sasuke’s side.

 

No question Sasuke’s life magic is involved, but Kyuubi’s connection with Sasuke, Naruto doesn’t know how much of that is inherently tied to Sasuke’s magic, or how much of it really is an extension of how he himself feels about Sasuke.

 

Probably a lot of both.

 

A low growl comes from Kyuubi, not the first flare of irritation Naruto’s had to endure all day, as much as Kyuubi can’t stand their situation, either; although Kyuubi’s still refusing to speak to him, Naruto already that has nothing to do with anything he’s done, and rather how they both feel at their inability to do anything other than wait.

 

He hasn’t felt any spike from Sasuke in a while, though.  Still, it’s too early to wake him up just yet.

 

All this waiting, too much thinking, and he still doesn’t have anyone to talk to.

 

The last time he talked to Itachi, apart from that very much unwanted bombshell Itachi dropped on him, there wasn’t much else to cover.

 

He gave another uneventful sitrep, while Itachi brought him up to speed on his and Juugo’s end, as much as he could with all the information he’d been since able to gather, since his time spent canvassing the area, warned him, tried to better prepare him for what to look out for.

 

Like Sasuke had suspected, it was more than likely those mercenaries were after them specifically, and probably did at least come some kind of equipped with tools to combat technique used by magic users; Naruto just wasn’t ready to confirm that, and, at least to Sasuke, even out loud to himself, he wasn’t ready to make an already inevitable threat seem that much more concrete.

 

And even assuming those guys came to Barrah for them, they still don’t know what their agenda is, and whether or the situation was going to be capture or kill.

 

When Itachi started going down the list, telling him what to expect more than weapons-wise, any kind of heat-seeking technology was a given, alongside bio-detectors, which, while normally having a much higher failure rate at long-range detection, theoretically, could better pinpoint other biological signals.

 

All the same, it’s still the very kind of technology both Itachi and Sasuke could easily evade with their shadow magic, through a single cloaking technique, bypass practically all known technologies.

 

That’s why Itachi and Juugo have been able to lie low around that facility they found for so long.  And with Itachi’s capabilities, even taking Juugo into account, Itachi could probably have them disappear for days.  That makeshift base camp, the perimeter those mercenaries set up, actually, Itachi would’ve made an attempt to infiltrate sooner, but with that stunt Sasuke pulled, putting him out of commission, still with no way secured means off Barrah, and with unaccounted-for group mercenaries already out there looking for Naruto and Sasuke, that was a chain of events Itachi didn’t want to set in motion.  

 

With his skill set, there’s no doubt he could’ve taken them all down, especially with Juugo by his side.  He’s already considered lethal with a sword, could be downright brutal with how versatile he is with any kind of sharp weapon, but the sheer range of things Itachi can do with his shadow magic, stealth is definitely his strong suit, and the kinds of things he’s been teaching Sasuke...

 

But being able to use that single cloaking technique, having that kind of distinct advantage, especially in their situation, that’s why he decided to let Sasuke sleep.

 

By what he’s been told, it’s a pretty hard technique to learn, more rarely seen among shadow users than shadow magic itself.  The ability to cloak inanimate objects, even more advanced to be able to cloak another person, and sustained that for a substantial amount of time, it’s not a widely known technique.

 

Aside from life users, compared to magic users in general, there’s even less known about shadow users, anyway, which is probably shadow magic has traditionally been the most feared kind of magic, even from within their own community. 

 

People used to call shadow elementals anomalies, because of their ability to disappear in the shadows, where they were shunned and told they belonged—at least until more people began to spread the more positive view that having shadow magic simply meant having a means to bend light, which was where the whole light user movement came from, maybe not too long after the Second Great War, when the Alliance was still in the stages of being officially formed.

 

It was the push to change the use of the word light instead of shadow, as one of the seven, established transformative elements, based on the argument that because of the negative connotations specifically associated with shadow magic, the system then was fundamentally biased against shadow users.

 

On the surface, it made enough sense, just because shadow did need light in order to exist, and having shadow magic didn’t automatically make someone evil, but with so many stigmas that had already been surrounding shadow elementals for years, of course that movement didn’t last long.

 

There are a lot of things that can be done with shadow magic, that have made people more afraid of shadow users, than elemental users in general.  Doesn’t excuse the way people have and still treat them, but Naruto’s mature enough to at least recognise where some of that fear came from, and there was a time it might not have seemed completely misplaced.

 

Shadow users are still considered pretty rare, though.  Not including Sasuke, Naruto personally knows three: Itachi, Sai, and Shikamaru.  However, only Sasuke and Itachi can actually use that specific technique on someone else.

 

Sai can use it on himself, and can maintain it on inanimate objects; he used to impress Sasuke with his impromptu drawings, picking a clear surface at random, and in mere seconds able to paint an image with his magic, using the shadows as ink.  He just can’t use that cloaking technique on other people, although whether Itachi was the one who taught him, too, Naruto doesn’t know, but Shikamaru can’t use it all.

 

For Sasuke, how he makes the technique work effectively, he uses his magic to latch on to another person’s life force.  For Itachi, the way he far too calmly put it, his shadow magic will erase any trace of another person entirely.

 

Either way, it’s still cold.

 

Naruto’s been under the technique often enough, too many times, if he’s being honest.  It’s not so bad after a couple minutes, once he settles into it, but in the beginning, those first few seconds while he’s being put under, it’s always so freakishly cold, like he’s suddenly being drenched in water close to almost freezing, nothing like the more instinctive warmth that usually comes with sharing that kind of touch with another magic user.

 

That’s the one thing about it he can never get over, a distinct type of cold shadow users are somehow apparently just used to, along the same lines of the kind of cold Sasuke’s said he readily associates with Itachi—a sometimes unnerving cold Naruto’s felt with Shikamaru’s magic, and even through the images of Sai’s fleeting art.

 

But it really is like being put on a completely different plane of existence, when he’s only able to see the world through shades of grey, maybe even a lonely, too, just knowing nobody can see him, that he could stand in the middle of a crowd,  and yet he’d still be standing there alone.

 

At first, having shadow magic might not seem like much, because even when he was younger, Naruto didn’t fully understand what shadow users could do, but it takes a lot of stamina to sustain shadow techniques for long periods of time, and the kind of precision even Naruto could get away without, as much discipline as it has taken for him control his own wind magic.

 

Like Shikamaru’s shadow imitation technique.  It took him a long time to master, but it was something he actually taught himself, because even an idle genius like him wouldn’t have made in into the Academy, if he didn’t already know how to apply himself.

 

And it’s pretty impressive to see in action, too, the way Shikamaru can bind another person’s shadow to his own, restraining his target and forcing that person to imitate what he does—just not when Naruto was the intended target.  It was all for sparring purposes, really, although it’s kind of nice to say can say he played a not so small part in helping Shikamaru learn it.

 

When Shikamaru had turned to him for help, asking Naruto to be a target because he trusted him as a fellow member of their team, and didn’t take much to recognise the potential of how powerful Naruto truly could be, while Naruto didn’t necessarily find it hard to escape, it was still almost this sort of debilitating feeling, this weird sense of not having control over his own body, that Kyuubi made sure to complain to him about how much he didn’t like it.

 

In terms of rank for magical ability, near the end of their first year at the Academy, Shikamaru was probably somewhere around a low C-class, which was actually a little higher than the expected average for their class.  Naruto just really had to hold back, so it wouldn’t seem like he had too easily countered Shikamaru’s technique.

 

At least he was still able to talk.

 

But it has its drawbacks, too.  No different than any other shadow technique, it requires a of lot energy to maintain, for Shikamaru, significantly draining, less effective the longer it’s held, and essentially limiting his own movements, because he has to constantly keep in mind how his actions will affect the actions of his target.

 

(Off the record, hearing about Shikamaru’s shadow imitation technique, Ibiki, an executive officer who spent some time working with Nagi’s intelligence division, a pretty strict kind of guy, rumoured to work for the one of _the_ major three intelligence agencies in the Alliance, unofficially known for employing some of the harshest torture and interrogation tactics, he took an almost immediate shine to Shikamaru, already had him in mind for a couple specialty programmes after graduation—although he’d probably have to go through Asuma first for that one, since even someone like Shikamaru had his favourites.)

 

Shikamaru’s not one for using his magic, anyway.  Despite having his own signature technique, he puts considerably less effort towards his magical abilities, because he prefers not to rely so heavily on them, with the claim he just chooses to be more economical with his energy expenditure.

 

_“Unlike some people.”_

_“...even though I can’t tell whether or not you’re talking about me, somehow, it still feels like you’re talking about me.”_

 

It’s different for people like Shikamaru, though.  Like Sakura, he’s the only known magic user in his family, and a shadow user at that, so he just wasn’t exposed to that kind of environment, where there are different expectations, and a much higher importance placed on having magic.  Maybe, a long time ago, when the first magic users showed up, maybe Shikamaru could trace his family history that far back, if he could ever find any record of it.

 

It’s sobering at times, the kinds of things they are able to do, these abilities that have just become so commonplace, but without knowing whether Sasuke will be able to use his shadow magic, at the very least be able to function on his own without support...

 

Stranded in out in the open desert with no accessible coverage, pretty much painting them as slow-moving targets, yeah, carrying Sasuke out of here is a no-go.

 

That’s almost as bad as walking into a kill zone.

 

It’d be too easy for someone to get the jump on them.

 

Really, it’s only a matter of time.  Maybe sooner rather than later.  With the deflections systems Sasuke rigged for ship, though, hopefully, that’s enough to keep the off anyone else’s radar for now, until the diagnostic checks are finished.  It just needs a couple hours’ more worth of work, to make sure it’s stable enough to get them past Barrah’s orbit.

 

And even if he didn’t decide not to wait, headed for the ship when he had the chance, who’s to say he wouldn’t have led those mercenaries right to the ship?

 

The other side to Sasuke’s Influence, the kind of handy luck that seems to happen around him, Naruto’s not going to bank on that.  Who knows when or even _if_ it’ll kick in?

 

Instead of coming back, maybe he really should’ve waited on the ship.

 

Maybe he should’ve been anticipating what Sasuke did, based on so many of the things Sasuke’s already done.

 

Whatever self-imposed limitations Sasuke wrongly might think he has—Sasuke really doesn’t know his own limits.  And Naruto isn’t the only one who can’t seem to stress that enough.

 

Sasuke’s always pushed himself too much.  He’s always been more curious than what any normal person would probably consider healthy.

 

After discovering he could do elemental magic, after creating that sphere with both shadow and wind, the third element Sasuke tried to teach himself was fire.

 

The only person he told about his attempts to practice elemental magic was Naruto, and the only reason Naruto kept quiet at first, was because Sasuke made him promise to keep it a secret, because Sasuke wasn’t ready tell.

 

If something happened to Sasuke, he couldn’t just promise something like that, but he did promise not to say anything just yet, if Sasuke promised not to practice by himself, and only when Naruto was there, too.

 

It was a promise neither of them broke, but one day, Sasuke came up to him, excited to show him something he said Naruto just had to wait and see, so he took Naruto all the way to this hidden spot near his family’s gardens, that became a sort of hideout, a place all to themselves they could call their own, and huddled together, in that tiny little spot that seemed made just for them, that was the first time Naruto had seen Sasuke use fire magic.

 

But Sasuke couldn’t just show Naruto that he knew how to use fire magic.  No, he had to use too much of his elemental magic at once, on top of accidentally drawing from his life magic, which inevitably blew up in his face, because Sasuke had burned his left hand so bad, that Naruto could almost see bone poking through Sasuke’s skin.

 

Of course he panicked.  As calm as Sasuke was, trying to convince him it didn’t really hurt, Naruto was sure enough invoking his natural-given right to panic.

 

He ended up dragging Sasuke to the closest authority figure he knew, Sakura at the time, even though she was barely seventeen herself, and new to Nagi, new to everything about this world of magic she had never been a part of—someone they really hadn’t known that long, but Itachi had introduced her as one of their safe adults, someone Naruto and Sasuke could trust.

 

To Sakura’s credit, and especially considering it was her first time having to deal with Sasuke like that, she didn’t scream.  There was a very brief moment of hesitation, but she kept a level expression, taking control of the situation, calmly asking Naruto and Sasuke questions, questions Sasuke didn’t have the energy to answer, and immediately applying her knowledge of first-aid—even as she saw for herself that Sasuke’s hand had already begun to mend, watching with a morbid fascination the reposition of the all the muscles and tendons covered by reddened skin that slowly began to pale, until Sasuke’s hand was fully healed.

 

He still hasn’t forgotten the look of horror on Sakura’s face.  He can’t forget how terrified she’d been, not only by Sasuke’s fourth-degree burns, but just that glimpse into what Sasuke was capable of, because she hadn’t been exposed to Sasuke’s life magic before, while even by then Naruto was already used to the kinds of things Sasuke could do by the time Sasuke was nine.

 

Yet that entire time, Sasuke was quiet the entire time, eyes shut, breathing shallow, his other hand holding on to Naruto’s fingers, but otherwise showed no visible signs of pain.

 

“...Sasuke,” Sakura began gently, kneeling down in front of him, concentrating her gaze on Sasuke’s eyes still closed, keeping her voice patient, low, “Naruto and I need to take you to the hospital, okay.  We need to tell your brother and your parents.  Will you let us do that?”

 

Sasuke just nodded, proof of how much he really must’ve been out of it, even leaning a little into Sakura, as she moved to reach under his arms, carefully picking him up, as Sasuke released his hold on Naruto’s fingers, but it was with his healed hand he reached for Sakura’s cheek, with a soft sigh caught her completely by surprise with the calming touch, before his hand fell aside, and Sasuke lost consciousness.

 

But it wasn’t Sasuke’s use of empathy that surprised her.  It was the fact that even in that state, despite his reluctance toward her, Sasuke hadn’t hesitated to reach out with his empathy trying to reassure her.

 

(It already took a while for Sasuke to open up to people, but since Sakura’s arrival, Sasuke hadn’t quite warmed up to her the way Naruto had immediately fallen for her at first sight; Naruto’s not so subtle crush had started Sasuke’s not so subtle attempts to compete with Sakura for Naruto’s attention.

 

Eventually, Sakura took it upon herself to pull a blushing Naruto aside and explain that Sasuke probably felt left out, and suggested Naruto try to understand where Sasuke was coming from.

 

It was his first crush, not so unexpected at his age, although he hadn’t even thought of it that way, because it didn’t mean he spent less time with Sasuke, but the time they did spend together, he did kind of talk about Sakura a lot, and all the amazing techniques she knew how to do with her earth magic, maybe even a little of how pretty he thought she was.

 

Sakura also said she thought Naruto’s crush was cute—she thought they were both cute, like the little brothers she never had—but made very clear Naruto was entirely too young for her.)

 

To absolutely no one but Sasuke’s surprise, for doing something so incredibly reckless, Sasuke got in trouble.  Although he was far more distracted by the discovery he had the affinity for another element, could use the same fire magic that’s run in his family for generations, even if that meant he’d probably scarred Sakura for life in the process.

 

And then he had the actual nerve to accuse Naruto of overreacting.

 

Never mind he’d been unconscious for two whole days.

 

If it wasn’t for the fact Sasuke’s body had all but shut down completely, that he’d just come out of that weird sort of suspended state of animation, the moment Sasuke woke up, Naruto probably would’ve given in to the very hard to resist temptation to shake some much needed sense into him.

 

Add that to fact Sasuke could act so casual about the whole thing, Sasuke’s warped concept of training is exactly why people don’t trust his ideas of what it means to have limitations.

 

That kind of stuff doesn’t faze him like it should.  It never did.

 

Just like the first time Sasuke met Kyuubi, when he did the same thing then, too, approaching Naruto without even thinking about the consequences of coming too close, all because of something that just felt right to do, all too willing to go along with his magic, claiming he already knew everything would be fine.

 

Just like when he found his way on Kakashi’s ship, when Sasuke just took his Influence and ran with it, completely ignoring Naruto’s very well-founded fears for his life, counting down how many hours he’d have left to live after Itachi found out Sasuke was a stowaway.

 

Up to a point, there’s not much that surprises him about Sasuke’s magic anymore.

 

But this whole mess on Barrah, if Sasuke feels like he keeps going backwards, Naruto feels like he can’t even be sure which way’s up.  Every time it seems like things can’t get any worse...

 

He doesn’t want to jinx himself.

 

He just really needs to do _something_.

 

(Instead of thinking of how nerve-wracking it’d been to carry Sasuke back to the caves, an entire four hours that felt more like four days, Sasuke’s soft breathing easily drowned out by the slightest breeze, hyperaware on the faint rise and fall of Sasuke’s chest against his back, preparing himself for the next time Sasuke stopped breathing, stopping to break at weird intervals, sometimes ten minutes, then half an hour, five minutes, then twenty minutes, because Sasuke wasn’t moving at all, and he had to make sure.)

 

Instead of all this annoying back and forth.

 

There was no use going back to a ship stuck running diagnostics, or being anywhere near that dunemite nest, with all those dunemites he last saw hanging around (he doesn’t know why they’re called dunemites, really, nothing small about them; the way one of them tried to tear straight through the ship the first time).  The ship’s regulating functions would be limited to the bare minimum, keeping the ship cold indefinitely, meaning there won’t be any heat until the engines are allowed to cool down.

 

So far, still no updates from his PCD.  But after a few more resets, a couple more hours at most, everything should be good to go.  Ready to take him and Sasuke out of here, possibly—probably—without Itachi and Juugo.

 

They need to get back to the ship.  That’s his main priority, getting them safely out of here.  He’d known that even without Itachi having to tell him, but Itachi hadn’t just told him to take Sasuke and leave.  Itachi ordered him to.

 

As easygoing as his relationship with Itachi is, to the point where Itachi doesn’t mind overall the casualness of it, including how crass Naruto sometimes is with his speech, when Itachi speaks as his superior, Itachi’s never given him preferential treatment, and Naruto’s never expected that from him.

 

What his CO says is what goes.  He can’t afford to break that chain of command.  He trusts Itachi, trusts that Itachi will be okay.  He has to, in order to take care of Sasuke.  Itachi’s depending on him to get Sasuke out of here safely, so that’s what he’s going to do.

 

It’s been almost six hours since their last contact, a little under an hour before he’s due for his next scheduled check in.  Just like the last one, though, he highly doubts he’ll make this one, either.

 

The deal was to maintain radio silence, to hold out for as long as possible, except their hand had been forced early.

 

Up until then, Itachi hadn’t had any communication issues, so that meant they were getting closer on Naruto’s end.

 

He’s been trying to use a programme on his PCD, using the PCD itself as an access point to help bolster to the signal, but it’s no use, not with that kind of deliberate jamming.  The signal keeps breaking up.  There aren’t a lot of frequencies they can operate on, and even though the connection to SatCom offline, he still hasn’t been able to pick up on any satellites close enough he could bounce a signal off, or really anything on Barrah he could tap into for an additional boost, but Itachi already warned him about that, too.

 

Going by the typical range, and based on the time since he started losing signal, probably another five or six kilometres out, if he’s lucky.

 

He makes a reach for his comm, absently adjusting the small headset slipped over his ear.

 

Itachi’s probably made his move by now, but Naruto’s not trying to let himself worry too much about him and Juugo.  Aside from being crazy strong, seemingly impenetrable, with Barrah being his home, Juugo knows the area more than well enough.  And whatever the situation, Itachi knows how to play his cards close.

 

If Sasuke’s a reckless bastard who doesn’t think through most of the things he does, Itachi more than makes up for it by being a meticulous hard-ass, falling on the overly cautious side.  He can’t stand not being in the know, would rather prolong fights, on or off the field, until he could get a firm grasp on the situation, preferring to be at least a good four or five steps ahead of his opponent, which usually is the case.

 

That’s why Naruto still can’t shake the feeling there’s something a lot bigger at play, a lot more that Itachi himself suspects, because it really feels like Itachi’s somehow already convinced he’s the one these guys are after.

 

Earlier, Itachi said he didn’t recognise the mercenaries, but Naruto’s still sticking by his belief that this whole thing is an inside job, especially since Itachi hadn’t confirmed or denied it, hadn’t tried to dismiss the topic altogether; if Itachi thought it was a serious case of overreaching, he wouldn’t have hesitated to call Naruto out for making careless assumptions.

 

Sometimes, he really does feel like Itachi’s paranoia is rubbing off on him, in the some of the worst ways, but the way he figures, like he told Sasuke, a small scouter like that barging into them, it had to have been a setup.

 

At first, it really didn’t seem like much more than some random, half-assed attempt to throw them off course, but then there’s still the fact that _someone_ would’ve had to known about Barrah ahead of time, for all intents and purposes still a planet that isn’t even on the PDH, a planet Itachi didn’t even know about, and Itachi has a high enough clearance to pretty much know everything.

 

It’s just the timing of it all, the fact it happened on the way to another peace summit, even though everything on the outside read situation normal, because if those mercenaries really were waiting in the wings, it’s not just their means of detection he has to put into consideration.

 

But less a matter of how they found Barrah, he’s more concerned about why that kind of outfit was sent here and who sent them.

 

At least there don’t seem to be any magic users among them.  Neither Juugo nor Itachi sensed any magic from the mercenaries, although Naruto’s still holding off on deciding whether or not that’s a good thing.  Probably won’t matter in the long run, considering they’re heavily armed with military-grade weapons.

 

So, there’s that he has to consider, too.

 

Itachi did say they were carrying an older model of rifle, although that didn’t really do anything to make him feel at ease, because it still meant the group of mercenaries probably heading his way was coming at him with _military-grade weapons_.

 

But that’s a bridge he’ll have to cross when they get here.

 

In the civilian sense, guns haven’t gone anywhere.  They’ve become smaller, easier to carry, much cheaper to produce, much easier to afford, and it doesn’t take much effort to use them.  That’s why they’re still considered the norm, why smuggling guns is still such an issue, in spite of the all measures that have been put in place, because there’s money to be made from weapons trafficking.

 

It came to the point where there was a government-backed shift toward energy-based projectile weapons, although it was short-lived.  While the technology for it does exist, and it really does offer a lot more high-powered variety for long-range impact on a much larger scale, even with the all strides being made in that field, and not just for military purposes, it won’t replace guns any time soon.

 

For one, it’s too expensive.  Although it sounds good in theory, because they are more accurate, and easier to customise for specified amounts of firepower, they don’t come cheap.  And, just like using deflections systems in space, it takes a consistent power source powerful enough to even use it. 

 

Plus, once neutralising technology picked up, that sort of threw their use to the wayside, so unless it’s on a really large scale, or used for the sake of disrupting digital systems, energy-based weapons just aren’t that practical.

 

And the thing about guns made these days, they come with a certain kind of electronic chip that also acts as a transmitter, keeping track of the serial number, registration, last known location.  It’s actually illegal for weapons companies to manufacture them without those chips.  It’s also illegal to disable those chips.  Not that it’s ever stopped anyone before.

 

But it’s all about the different types of ammo, now.  The good stuff on the black market, that’s what people want to get their hands on, bullets capable of reaching insane velocities, tearing that much faster through flesh, and even those bullets laced with different chemical substances, capable of inflicting a lot of things, without the intention to kill.

 

(Apparently, antique models are getting popular again, too, as a collectors’ item.  Between so much upkeep being involved and the excessive price tag, in his mind, they’re not really worth having in anyone’s collection, but the only reason he even knows about it is because Tenten’s an avid collector, which he found out when Sasuke came to him about gift ideas for her birthday.)

 

In the military sense, rifles aren’t going anywhere, either.  Basic training at the Academy includes the introduction to different types of firearms, alongside guns.  Even for magic users, depending on the career track, having certain weapons certifications is mandatory; by the time they’re eighteen, before they’re even allowed to graduate, trainees are expected be registered to use and licensed to carry.

 

Naruto’s both.  He knows his way around a standard-issue rifle.  He’s been trained to handle all sorts of firearms.  He’d just prefer not to.  He hasn’t had much of a need for them yet.  He can defend himself pretty well without them.  And, like a lot of magic users, magic is his preferred weapon of choice.

 

It’s what he’s always been more comfortable with, and the bulk what of his combat training has been focused on, especially since hand-to-hand combat is one of his strengths, but there are just as many advantages to using magic, as there are to using firearms.

 

That being said, what applies to most magic users doesn’t necessarily apply to him.  He has tried to stop speeding projectiles before, using his wind barrier.  He didn’t get the hang of it right away, but it worked.  At least to some extent, he _can_ do it.

 

Doesn’t mean he’s not aware of the locked, weapons cache Itachi brought on the ship, in the hidden compartment underneath the pilot’s seat, where he didn’t doubt Itachi told him it’d be. 

 

As much as he likes to rag on Itachi for being so paranoid, there are definitely times when Itachi’s paranoia really does pay off, more times than Naruto’s comfortable with, but to carry a _goddamn near arsenal_ —and that’s on top of fact Itachi had used to his shadow magic to conceal it.

 

(While Itachi did give him detailed instructions on how to open it, Naruto hasn’t tried to yet, because once it’s revealed, that’s it.)

 

Technically, weapons aren’t allowed during the peace summits, or rather, not beyond certain checkpoints preceding wherever locations the summits are being held at the time, which isn’t always in a neutralised zone; it’s explicitly understood, though, that people can’t be expected to travel without some sort of protection, magic users or not, so there are allowances, but no sane person in their right mind would try to dock at a designated port packing that much firepower.

 

At the very least, it’s a lengthy prison sentence, and that’s only if they even made it past the gate.

 

The long term consequences are too steep to even try that, the kind of infraction on the scale of possibly starting a war, because it would be a direct violation of the Keystone treaty, the reason they even have these peace summits; in some respects, the peace summits have been helping to better relations between the Alliance and the Federation, but the relationship itself is still tense.

 

Obviously, Itachi wasn’t comfortable going into this thing the way they did, even if the summit this time was being held in neutral territory, so he already had to have some kind of idea behind what was really going on.

 

But even with that realisation, and having some sense of what he might be up against, what Naruto’s starting to worry more about, the same issue he keeps coming back to yet still doesn’t know how to address, is Sasuke’s empathy.

 

(Jeeze, he really is starting to sound like Itachi.  But he’s just going to keep that one to himself, because Sasuke would never let him live it down.)

 

Yesterday, Sasuke said he was at a two.  Still probably isn’t even back at a three yet.  And around Naruto, it’s fine.  Sasuke might be able to feel Naruto’s emotions more clearly in that state, but it doesn’t affect him in same way he can be affected by other people’s emotions.

 

Officially, despite his extremely high level of empathy, Sasuke’s barely reaching the low side of D-class, mainly since there’s no real way to test life magic; if there was, there’s no question Sasuke would probably rank a lot closer to him and Itachi.

 

He won’t say he knows what it’s like, but he understands why Sasuke resents it: being stuck on the outside looking in, having so many limitations placed on him for the sake of his own protection, having to attend all those government or social functions paraded around like some glorified trophy, misjudged all the time for being too impassive, taken too lightly for even having the ability to heal with his magic.

 

For a lot of people, they want to see Sasuke as harmless.  Healing has traditionally been considered a passive role, anyway, so it’s easy to get caught up in that aspect of Sasuke’s magic, and especially due to the nature of his empathy, because it doesn’t contradict what people already think they know about him.  The severe extent of Sasuke’s sensitivity, that part’s already public knowledge, but there’s nothing passive about Sasuke’s life magic.

 

For Naruto, he doesn’t get how a lot of people seem unable, or maybe just that unwilling, to see the obvious, as plain as what Sasuke quoted to him once:

 

_At the very heart of life, before creation comes destruction._

 

(Of all people Sasuke chose to quote, it had to be Orochimaru— _Orochimaru_ —but even Orochimaru’s very creepy and highly inappropriate obsession with him hadn’t discouraged Sasuke from pulling too many all-nighters going through Orochimaru’s research on life magic, once he found a way to access Orochimaru’s academic papers.)

 

Anybody with a real interest in Sasuke’s life magic could pick up on that—not the kinds of people even Mikoto and Fugaku can’t prevent from being around Sasuke, people who just want to be able to say they’ve met a life user, mark it off their checklist of things to do, because the novelty surrounding Sasuke still hasn’t worn off.

 

Because life and death go hand-in-hand.  Like shadow and light, one can’t exist without the other.

 

It takes Sasuke giving his own life force in order to heal.

 

It took Sasuke nearly killing himself trying to give Naruto another chance at life.

 

With Sasuke’s magic, if an ancient demon, a known destroyer of worlds, doesn’t even have the power to harm Sasuke, if Kyuubi can be so easily subdued by him, there’s nothing passive about that.

 

Then again, those aren’t things people are supposed to know.

 

Other than the existence of his life magic, and how different Sasuke’s empathy is from empathy in the typical, magic sense, there isn’t much else that has slipped out about Sasuke, but those continued assumptions about him had to have come from somewhere.

 

Grudgingly, as much as he doesn’t like it, even Naruto has to admit that most people have probably formed whatever opinions on Sasuke, based on what they’ve been able to experience for themselves—based on what they’ve seen or heard of Sasuke empathetic attacks.

 

All things considered, Sasuke’s only had a few public episodes, not that many, no more than four, including that day Naruto touched him in class, but any episode where he’s openly struggling to control his empathy, struggling to maintain his own emotions, struggling to keep out the emotions of those around him, it’s already too much.

 

The first three episodes were relatively contained, put behind him by the time he was ten, but the most recent one, as recent as four years ago, it was just...

                                                             

Sasuke was twelve then.  Since getting his empathy, it was the first time that he got to travel off world, which meant having to go through a spaceport.

 

While it wasn’t his worst empathetic attack by far, it was made that much more worse by the fact it had been in the middle of such a large crowd, the result of an sudden rush, more people than he was used to being around at once, but even then, because it had been so long since he’d had anything more than the occasional rough spike, it was also something no one could’ve anticipated, not even Sasuke.

 

But Naruto remembers Sasuke really looking forward to it, too, something so simple, what other kids their age had already been doing for years.  He remembers the pleased smile Sasuke gave him when he went to see Sasuke off, remembers Sasuke teasing him for worrying too much.

 

Mounting delays further crowded an already busy spaceport, and for a while, despite the continued arrivals, mostly non magic-users in a growing crowd, everything did seem okay.

 

With the occasional rough spike, Sasuke was more prepared for that, because he could usually tell beforehand, just going by how he was feeling and how his empathy responded that.

 

But for empathetic attacks, there was no warning.  There was no way for Sasuke to prepare for those.

 

One minute, Sasuke was fine, waiting in line with his mom and dad, getting ready to check in with his passport.  The next minute, he’d fallen to floor, curled up as small as he could, hands holding his head, and then he just started screaming.

 

Port security started making their way to the scene, but Sasuke’s own security detail was already there.  Forcing a path through the crowd, they blocked off a small area, tried to keep Sasuke from view, the sight of Mikoto kneeled down beside him, beside herself trying to calm him, before Fugaku decided to risk touching Sasuke, picking him up and carrying him away, but too many people had already gathered around them, had already seen the cause of commotion.

 

There were more than a few who had managed to get a recording of Sasuke’s attack as it happened, because it wasn’t often that Sasuke was seen out in the open, so they’d already been watching him.  By the time the situation was under control, the footage was already uploaded on thousands of sites, videos offering different angles that had already been seen by millions by the time Naruto found out—not even Itachi could use his influence to protect Sasuke from something like that.

 

_“Why aren’t you going to see Iyashi, huh?”_

_“...because I don’t want to talk to Iyashi.”_

_“Why not?  You always talk to Iyashi when something happens with your empathy.”_

_“Because it was humiliating, Naruto.  It was stupid.  Everything’s so stupid.  All of it’s so stupid, just like still having to wear these gloves.  I only wanted to be like you and Itachi.  I only..._

_“Itachi was already perfect, and you were always—but I don’t want to be like this anymore.  I never asked for any of it.  I can’t keep doing this.  I can’t keep having to—”_

_“But you don’t have to be like us, Sasuke.  Me and Itachi, we can’t even do half the things you can do.  You’re someone who—”_

_“But it’s still not enough.  It’s never been enough.  You’ve seen how condescending people are towards me, and I’m not even allowed to say anything against the way they treat me, like I’m too weak to do anything, like they expect me to just break down and cr—”_

_“Hey, it’s okay, all right.  It’s going to be okay.”_

_“No, it’s not okay, because it’s going to happen again, and I’m still not—”_

_“So what if it happens again?  So what?  Since when did you care what people think about you?”_

_“…I don’t know.”_

_“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be embarrassed, because I would feel that way, too, but something like this doesn’t make you weak, Sasuke.  And it doesn’t have to be a setback.  It doesn’t mean you have to start all over again._

_“You really are getting better with your empathy.  I mean, all this time you were doing fine, weren’t you?  It hasn’t been like this for you in a while, so you’re not—”_

_“Something so bad that I blacked out, Naruto?  I could hear them—I could feel all of them, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it.  And it’s out now.  Any time someone wants to look at it, for anyone to see.  Tell me, Naruto—_ tell me _.  Tell me how any of that is supposed to be me getting better?”_

_“Because you’ve never been in a crowd like that before, and because it did happen so suddenly, so whatever set you off, don’t you think that has to mean something?  Don’t you think it means you should tell Iyashi?”_

_“It doesn’t mean anything.  It just means I’m...”_

_“You know you can trust me, Sasuke.  You_ know _that.”_

_“I know.”_

_“I mean it, Sasuke.  I’m not just saying it to make you feel better.  It’s just us.  Me and you, Sasuke, it’s just us._

_“You can trust me, can’t you?”_

_“I never said I couldn’t trust you, Naruto.”_

_“It’s just us.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Just us.”_

_“...”_

_“Hey, come on, listen to me for a sec—I really need you to listen, okay?”_

_“…okay.”_

_“What do you hear?”_

_“…nothing.”_

_“Okay.  Nothing.  That’s good.  That’s always…how do you feel?”_

_“I don’t want to feel anything.  I don’t want to be the way I used to be.  I can’t go through that again—I’m not going to go through that aga—”_

_“No, Sasuke, I’m not—hey, listen—_ listen _, you know I wouldn’t ask you to do that, right.  You know that, so I just need for you to look at me, okay.  Can you—please, Sasuke,_ please _, I’m just asking you to open your eyes.  I’m just asking you to look at me.  Can that be okay, too?”_

 

“…”

 

_“…Sasuke?”_

 

_“...it’s okay.”_

_“Okay.  So, how do you feel, now?”_

_“I’m fine, Naruto.”_

_“Sasuke, you—”_

_“The same way I always feel with you._

_“...I’m fine.”_

It wasn’t surprising Sasuke started to close himself off again.  That one hit him hard.  Like the first time he got his empathy, he did his best trying to ignore it, almost got himself sick trying to suppress it.  He’d get upset with himself every time he didn’t mean to use it, all the little things that were just natural for him to do.

 

And naturally, by not using his empathy, that made him more susceptible to it; he’d get that vacant look in his eyes, as his eyes started to glow white, go into this of sort of trance, like his movements weren’t his own, his body simply acting on his ability to heal, and it just served to prove how defenceless Sasuke really could be against his own magic.

 

And he was right about the footage.  It’s still out there, still one of the more popular hits, if anybody searches Sasuke’s name in the online data books.

 

Sometimes, with things like that, like having an empathetic attack, it isn’t Sasuke’s fault.

 

But other times, with things like this, like trying to raise an entire ship, it really is Sasuke’s fault.

 

Sasuke has started to develop this really bad habit of not listening when people try to tell him things.  Important things.  Very important things that shouldn’t have to be repeated, much less repeated more than twice.

 

Like not to risk his life on such a regular basis.

 

Which includes trying not to kill himself by proxy.

 

It’s already been established that Barrah’s the kind of environment where Sasuke shouldn’t go around touching random things, but whatever’s been tripping him up so badly, Naruto can’t quite put his finger on it, he’s got a feeling it has lot more to do with that bracelet they found back at the prison, even more than the backlash Sasuke received from releasing Juugo from that collar.

 

Itachi couldn’t sense any magic from the bracelet, either, and Juugo said he didn’t recall having seeing anything like it before.  Neither of them recognised the strange language on it, but Juugo did echo what Sasuke said, about the bracelet’s general design reminding him of the collar.

 

But it’s not the bracelet itself that doesn’t sit right with Naruto.  It’s what the bracelet might represent.

 

The people who were here before, the people who probably built the prison, obviously, they were a lot more advanced than Juugo’s people, advanced enough to apparently a magical technology that’s technically not supposed to be possible.

 

But it’s just as obvious there was something old about Barrah, old enough to make even Kyuubi feel young, or maybe even older than that, going back to the very first magic users, when Earth still existed, before the existence of magic was universally accepted.

 

(He caught Sasuke looking at those murals a few days ago, at the crude depictions of magic users Sasuke absently staring, slowly tracing with his fingers the figures drawn along the walls, until the fifth time Naruto had to call out his name, in order to get his attention.)

 

It’s just this weird combination of old and new, except it seems like the more advanced technology appeared on Barrah first, but even that rough estimate for a timeline doesn’t match up with kinds of technology that had already been available on Earth.

 

That’s what he really thinks, what a lot of this, whatever the hell Barrah, is comes down to, and why he still has that bracelet in his knapsack.

 

He gives in to a sigh, from underneath his thin blanket, reaching to pull at the collar of his black tank uncomfortably sticking to his skin, trying and failing for the umpteenth time to get some kind of comfortable.

 

Looks like they might have to go back to that hellhole, anyway.  A least to buy some more time.  Wait it out there for a bit, then make a run for the ship.  Assuming those guys are going to come at them fully armed, he doesn’t know how long they’ll be able to hold out in a shaky place like this.

 

Juugo did say these cave structures had been around since long before the time of people, and Naruto’s not going to argue with that, but Juugo...

 

Honestly, he’s still a little on the fence about Juugo, even though he does feel bad for him, as much as he really does like the guy, because he still doesn’t know Juugo’s motives, other than wanting to support Sasuke on a supposed pilgrimage.  For the most part, Juugo seems like he’s on their side, but Naruto’s not going to place all his trust in a stranger seemingly the only native person left alive on an even stranger planet, and one who just happened to take Sasuke in.

 

He did volunteer to stay behind with Itachi, though, even supporting Itachi’s assertion that the two of them would be able to find their way off Barrah, which Naruto really wanted to let himself believe, because Itachi had already gotten himself out of a lot of seemingly impossible situations before.

 

_“A pilgrimage is a journey drawn far beyond our reach.  Rarely is it taken on by a single path._

_“Although we may no longer share the same path, as we part ways now, I truly believe our paths will cross once more, and again lead us to one another.”_

 

As insightful as that sounded, hearing Juugo’s old-fashioned speech, it still made Naruto laugh a little, this almost lacklustre, half-hearted noise, because something was telling him it’d be the last time he’d hear from either of them in a while.

 

Again, he doesn’t necessarily think Juugo’s a bad guy.  Juugo didn’t seem affected by Sasuke’s Influence, didn’t get that dazed over look that most people do.  He just got really angry, when he thought Naruto was there to hurt Sasuke, on the verge going a rampage, but the anger was quick to subside, when Sasuke explained who Naruto was.

 

(Sasuke travelling around with someone who could switch so quickly between two extremes, Itachi was not going to allow that.)

 

Or maybe it’s more so about Juugo being able to sense magical auras.  Maybe that’s what’s really bothering him, because he’s still a little uneasy about it, even if Juugo didn’t recognise Kyuubi.

 

Like Sasuke said, Juugo probably didn’t think anything of it, because it really was like Juugo had stepped out of another time, like all this time Barrah had been secluded from the outside world, but it still felt invasive.

 

Having magic, it’s just...personal.

 

And being able to hide his magic, it’s helped keep him safe.  His parents couldn’t emphasise that enough.  Neither could Sasuke’s parents or Itachi.

 

If people knew about Kyuubi, Naruto wouldn’t be that much better off than Sasuke.  Although whereas he might have it a little easier in the ways he’s able to hide Kyuubi, he probably would’ve been in the same boat, heavily scrutinised, highly sought after for a chance at Kyuubi’s power; unfortunately, he knows what people are capable of, what they’re willing to pay, the kinds of things they won’t hesitate to do, cage him like an animal, a _monster_.

 

And the way he feels about Juugo’s ability, same deal with passports, but that’s a concession he knows he has to make.

 

On the inside, they’re all the same, paper or electronic, just a universal form of ID.  On the inside, different colours are used to indicate military, civilian, government worker, and whatever status, but it essentially comes down to an extra line on the main identification page, at the very top, listing a magic user’s registration number.

 

In the eyes of the law, that’s the only thing that separates them.

 

That’s it.

 

Well, except for Sasuke’s passport, because the kinds of stipulations actually written on there, that’s opening a completely different can of worms.

 

Other than that, though, only magic users can recognise each other on sight.  It’s been that way for ages.  Even today, a lot people are still guarded when it comes to their magic, and they have good reasons.

 

But considering Juugo admitted he was drawn to Sasuke’s life magic, and that was how he found him, with that kind of sensory ability, it’s still a little strange he couldn’t sense Kyuubi.  Being known as an ancient, nine-tailed fox demon aside, Kyuubi’s still pure magic.

 

Maybe it has something to do with Kyuubi being sealed inside him, like Kyuubi said he was—however that was supposed to work, however it did end up happening.  Maybe that’s somehow written into the seal, as an additional means of protection for Kyuubi.

 

He knows there are other tailed beasts like Kyuubi, from the very brief mentions in the lore he’s come across, and while there’s nothing in the old stories specifically about them being sealed inside hosts, apart from what he’s learn through his own family’s connection to Kyuubi, he wonders about it sometimes, if there really are other people like him out there.

 

On one hand, he wants to think there have to be.  He can’t be the only one.  He just doesn’t know where they are, or even how to find them.

 

But then they’re probably keeping it to themselves, too.  Otherwise, he doesn’t doubt he would’ve heard something about anyone housing the power of a tailed beast inside them by now.

 

What it’d be like if people did find out about Kyuubi, he doesn’t let himself think about it too much.  He already knows how fortunate he is.  Being the son of Uzumaki Kushina and Namikaze Minato, he knows he’s a lot better off than most magic users, a lot of people in general.

 

As sheltered as Sasuke definitely was growing up, Naruto can’t deny that grew up pretty sheltered, too, but he’s not so naïve to believe that discrimination against magic users doesn’t exist anymore.  Even he’s not immune to all the intolerance to the deragatory remarks.

 

As much as he looks for the good in people, wants to believe the best in people, tries his damnedest to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, there are just some people...

 

For some people, they don’t like what they don’t understand, and that can turn into a fear of what they don’t know, a fear they use to act on their own hate.  It’s not the uncommon to hear stories in the media from time to time, about stuff like that, the prejudice towards magic users simply because people are afraid, but the truth is, most magic users don’t even have the kind of power that would make them a threat to anyone.

 

Like that little old lady who used to live down the street from him, when he used to live with his parents near the Capital.  He remembers her being really sweet, always friendly to everyone.  She was married to a pretty big political figure, a long-serving ambassador who retired, or something like that, but she was an earth user, too, probably ranked as low as an E-class, with just enough magic to help keep her garden alive, the garden she and her husband used to tend together, before her husband died.

 

In reality, the majority of magic users are like her.  Those who do have a higher potential for magical ability, usually end up applying to or being recruited to one of the hundreds of academies in the Alliance, and even then, it’s not like everyone suddenly levels up and becomes overpowered; people can use their magic for careers in a lot of different things, in general for many things a lot of non-magic users wouldn’t think to use it for.  It doesn’t have to involve serving in the military.

 

But even from within the Alliance, there’s no shortage of anti-magic sentiment.  Although he hasn’t been exposed to it directly, he knows it’s there, and the only reason he’s had such limited exposure, is because he belongs to the Uzumaki family, one of _the_ big families, one of the most prominent families in both the magic user community and the Alliance.

 

Belonging to one of those families, it actually is big a deal.

 

The whole idea of the big families started from the realisation of safety in numbers, when magic users were first forced into hiding, and would keep close to themselves, to the point where other magic users were being kept out, too.  It was a matter of survival.  And that became a major contributing factor in why magic users weren’t completely wiped out.

 

Things they know now, that they didn’t know then, unless it was through other means, which wasn’t often, a lot of people weren’t able to defend themselves.  They didn’t have the Suzuki scale. They didn’t understand how empathy ties into mental acuity, and the methods used to strengthen magical ability.  Those kinds of scientific breakthroughs wouldn’t come until much later on.

 

The magic user community used to be scattered for a very long time, and it took a while to bring people back together.

 

Everyone’s had their own closely guarded traditions, secret techniques, different accounts of times gone by, mostly similar lore—mostly kept, either shown or passed along orally, rarely written down, a history of morals, stories that changed in detail over time, but across the board, the basic lesson to keep quiet about having magic ability was taught early. 

 

It was a long time ago—it happened a long time ago.

 

But it hasn’t gone away.

 

Recently, as in the last couple years, there’s been notable rise in anti-magic sentiment.  There’s been more of it in the news lately, people speaking out against magic users, or pushing for changes that would directly or indirectly affect magic user rights.

 

Trying to change magic user rights, though, it almost seems kind of pointless, considering those rights have become an undisputed part of what the Alliance stands for, so, it’s very far from being a new thing. 

 

(Solely as a magic user, he doesn’t agree with how pervasive and far-reaching some practices of the Registration Act are, like even having to have a separate identification number, but he fully understands the significant impact of something like that being passed; it was the first legislation of its kind intended to protect the interests of magic users, guaranteeing magic users fundamental rights, both within and outside the Alliance, by recognising magic users as citizens.)

 

But there’ll always be people like that, people who hate them because of who they are, look down on them because of the magic they have, always at least one person out there protesting their existence.  It’s just the way things are, so it’s not unexpected for groups like that to pop up every once in a while.  That kind of stuff always comes up, eventually dies down, until the next groups makes enough noise to get attention.

 

However, this time, some people are saying there might be an overlap between this wave of anti-magic sentiment, and Danzou coming out of retirement to make another round as an actor on the political scene, unofficially painting him as one of the silent figures spearheading the growing movement.

 

A guy his age, people don’t usually pay much attention to Danzou, not the kind of attention he used to get at any rate, quicker to pass him off as an old man off his rocker.  Still, there have been rumours he’s possibly considering putting in his bid to run for sovereign, a position that doesn’t even formally exist anymore, which is just...

 

Notoriously loyal as Danzou is to the Alliance, it’s safe to say to he doesn’t hold any warm feelings for the magic user community.

 

Although it’s nothing too obvious, and Naruto would still hesitate to go as far as saying Danzou hates magic users.  It’s more like disdain, really, rather than outright prejudice, and even most of that seems to be directed towards the Uchiha family.  Definitely no lost love there.

 

Easily, some of the most condescending things Naruto’s ever heard about Sasuke, have been said by Danzou.  Really hurtful things about Sasuke being a life user, ambiguous at best, indirect so-called observations, so nobody could say it was an intentional slight against Sasuke or the Uchiha family, but still things that no kid needed to hear.

 

Word is, how it all started, was because Danzou felt he’d been snubbed, when one of Sasuke’s relatives, Madara, ran an election that beat Danzou out of his seat, which supposedly forced Danzou into an early retirement, in order to save face, he claimed, because the entire system was rigged against him.

 

Naruto doesn’t know how much of that is true, because there are reasons a lot of people tend to pass Danzou off as some crazy old man stuck living in the past, and one who should’ve kicked the bucket years ago.  Although he won’t deny there is probably a bias towards the magic community in Nagi, Danzou was already losing popularity in the polls by that time, anyway, so of course it makes more sense to think that people were just looking to someone new, someone who just happened to be from the Uchiha family.

 

He won’t openly speak against them, though, or any of the big families.  He has to know they have in power in Nagi, are still growing in power, and doesn’t want to lose whatever political influence he has left, which is probably where most of that disdain came from.

 

While he won’t reveal it publically, neither does he go out of his way to denounce any show of prejudice towards magic users from the people who follow and support his platform.  His straddles the line, promoting his outdated agenda, a peace justified by any means necessary, relying on his experience in the military to reinforce his self-proclaimed image of fortitude, claiming his interests are in the interests of the Alliance.

 

For the good of the Alliance.

 

(Naruto hears that a lot.  Too much.)

 

But he’d be a fool think Danzou’s the only one signing off on that kind of propaganda.  There’re plenty of people already within the government, within the Council itself, who do agree with Danzou’s ideology: restoring the Alliance to its “rightful glory,” by way of absorbing the Federation; and if that also includes diminishing the role magic users, demeaning or even exploiting magic users, so be it.

 

Because if there’s one thing higher than Danzou’s disdain for magic users, it’s his staunch opposition against the Federation.  He used to be really outspoken about the Federation, would even advocate for war—not just those petty skirmishes over resources but actual _war_ —back when he first starting running for office, but that before even Itachi was born, before more and more magic users began getting involved in politics, taking office, encouraging and supporting other magic users who had the same ambitions.

 

Although if Danzou really does feel some kind of way about that, it’s weird that he’d end up coming to a place like Nagi.

 

Naruto doesn’t know much about Danzou’s personal history, though, other than a few things here and there he’s heard in passing.

 

Danzou was a transplant, a non-magic user all the way from Ganymede Systems, by Sector 72, a war-torn territory that had been taken over by the Federation.  When he was young, he applied for status at a refugee terminal.  Eventually, he found his way to one of the academies, decided to stay in the military.

 

At first, he had a good, stable career, slightly better than average, but he’d made it all the way up to captain in the defence divisions.  There’s even this story that, supposedly, during a mission, he sacrificed his right eye to save the rest of his team.

 

But then he got involved in a cover-up, accused of attempting to manipulate the leaders of Federation forces from a sister colony, with the intent to sabotage some important trade negotiations, that would have the Alliance taking off certain economic sanctions, to the benefit of some of the more remote sectors controlled by the Federation.

 

It was never proven, but he was basically told to resign, instead of having to go through lengthy investigation and risk of being dishonourably discharged, which, more importantly, even to Danzou, would be a bad look on the Alliance.

 

Somehow, he ended up in Nagi, got elected to a real comfortable and prestigious position as intelligence advisor, heading the main liaison office for government-military interrelations in the intelligence field.  It was a position that gave him pretty high access to the Council, and a position he held for a good twenty years, until Madara challenged him and won.

 

Yet Itachi’s the one who even thought to bring Danzou up.  Naruto wouldn’t even be thinking about Danzou, now, if Itachi hadn’t mentioned Danzou’s apparent interest in him, which still brings up the question of why someone like Danzou would suddenly take a liking to him?

 

And why be so open about it?

 

In spite of who his dad is, and, arguably, his own accomplishments, the recognition he’s already gotten for his skills as a pilot, it still doesn’t make sense.

 

His first thought was Kyuubi, because, well, Kyuubi was Kyuubi.

 

But then Itachi said Danzou had gone through the official channels to get copies of Naruto’s files (because Itachi doesn’t just get paranoid about things involving Sasuke).

 

So whatever that interest could possibly be, at least for his magical ability, Naruto’s been flying under the radar for a long time, has always made sure to test in a lower class for his ranking, especially now, when more people are watching him simply because he is pursuing the same path as his dad.

 

Itachi also said Danzou had a lot to gain from his disappearance.  He didn’t say whether or not he believed Danzou was directly involved, though, just that he didn’t trust the convenience of the attack that had forced them to land on Barrah in the first place.

 

It’s still too early to tell where Danzou stands on all this.  He might have the right connections, used to be in the right kind of position that could’ve possibly given him the information needed to pull it off, definitely looks a lot less obvious than Orochimaru.

 

And it was on the tip of Naruto’s tongue, after he told Sasuke what he thought about this whole thing probably being an inside job, the first name that came to mind.

 

Unlike Orochimaru, Danzou’s not as forward, and he has a scary amount of experience working in the intelligence field, which, combined with all the shady stuff Naruto’s seen first-hand, already makes the guy sketchy as hell.

 

However, just like Orochimaru, he doesn’t seem like the type to get his hands dirty, more willing to let others do the work for him.  And, if the stories are true, he’s already done things like that in the past.

 

Or maybe Naruto’s just grasping for straws, trying to find some kind of explanation, but the politics of it all, Sasuke grudgingly keeps up with that kind of thing better than him, anyway, more than Naruto would ever want to.

 

He doesn’t care for the bureaucracy, having to go through all that red tape, doesn’t have the patience for any of it. Once he started to understand the world around him, he quickly became disillusioned with the nature of politics. 

 

It’s all too superficial for him, too much left unsaid, too much in the way of not getting done.  Much more in the way of junkets, with all ceremonial bells and whistles people love to see.  Lots of self-congratulatory pats on the back for nothing more than a feel-good, dog and pony show, for the sake of their own welfare.

 

The roles he and Sasuke play, that’s all part of keeping up appearances, too.  But he gets the need for it.  He grew up around it.  He just doesn’t put much stock into it. Definitely doesn’t understand how people are able to put up with it for so long. 

 

Maybe later on, after the Academy, after a career in the military, he really will follow in his dad’s footsteps, learn to fight on a different stage in office one day, because he genuinely does enjoy being around people from all walks of life, and even more so believes in being a voice for those who can’t speak for themselves, wants to so much to make a difference, to work towards changing a still very flawed system, but right now…

 

Actually, with all the diplomatic functions he’s been dragged to, he’s honestly kind of surprised he hasn’t caused some kind of intergalactic scandal yet. 

 

Although his dad was a virtual unknown, before eventually making his way up to Head of State, his mom’s side of the family has always been involved with politics, so, he’s expected to know basic histories and different customs of the people his family has ties with; things like knowing when it’s okay to bow or to shake hands, becoming familiar with greetings in other languages, certain formalities he has to respect, how to maintain certain levels of decorum.

 

But Sasuke’s always been there to help him remember, in general just knowing how not to piss people off.

 

While he really could do without all the politics, he still has some pretty big names to live up to, especially since the Uzumaki name has been in the books almost as long as Uchiha.

 

(Sasuke’s told him a lot about the Uchiha family, how they used to be known as Uchiwa, and were actually an offshoot of Anbu, way, way back when, with members of his family made one of the first attempts at creating an organised police force, and that actually played a considerable hand in what ultimately led to the huge falling out between two of the groups who helped colonise Nagi; an active push against the attempted mass genocide going on at the time, which, was initially being enabled, but eventually headed, by groups that would later become the central powers that made up the Federation.

 

Naruto can’t trace the Uzumaki name that far back.  It didn’t start appearing in Nagi’s official records until after the Second Great War, because his family then used to be a group of migrants, and had finally decided to settle in Nagi, when the Alliance was still in the process of being established, while territories were still being marked, so a lot of information probably either got lost or just wasn’t recorded.

 

Strangely enough, even though the Namikaze name is a lot younger than either Uchiha or Uzumaki, he can trace a few water users from his dad’s side of the family, which is probably where their namesake came from, at one time being known for having both wind and water elementals, although, as far as he knows, his dad’s family are all wind elementals, now.)

 

Although Naruto’s not the biggest fan of history, he realises the significance of how those very same issues back then keep playing out today.  And even without a history buff like Sasuke coming to him to share all the new things he learned on his own, it’s still pretty fascinating.  They’re both living proof of that history.  People like them, they’re the direct product of what wealth and power can do.

 

Even so, it was nearly impossible not to learn about during class; learning about it was part of everyone’s curriculum, whether they were a magic user or not, because it’s such an important part of how Nagi came to be established as a hub for the magic user community.

 

It’s still known very well for catering to magic users, because it became one of the very first recognised safe havens, during a time there weren’t many places magic users could go and actually feel safe.

 

Of course, it didn’t happen overnight.  Nagi was a colony built from the ground up, but it also happened to be where certain clans with magic ability chose to settle, and some of those clans would grow to be very well-established.

 

Over time, with their wealth, they would gain not just the power to protect themselves as magic users, but also the kind of political sway to help extend that protection to other magic user; initially, it was mostly a trickle-down effect, because it took years to effect that sort of change throughout the Alliance, until it was permanently implemented through law.

 

The Alliance is run more like a democratic republic now, a much less militaristic form of government than what it used to be, but that’s why there’s still such a strong military presence in Nagi, since it’s because of Nagi’s strong military presence, that Nagi became a major cornerstone of a union that would later become known as the Alliance.

 

Long before the Alliance and the Federation officially formed, before interstellar travel became readily available, before sectors were even established, when space still took ages to explore, because space is a big place, it was known as the warring states period.  Just a bunch of different groups, billions of people who’d essentially left Earth, because Earth no longer had as many resources to comfortably sustain them, fighting over territory, fighting over resources, fighting for survival.

 

There were two types of groups: those who had power, and those who didn’t.

 

And that was how the First Great War started.

 

Even before Earth was destroyed, competing for territory and resources, that was the First Great War.

 

And competing for the territory that would later become known as Sector 118, was a group that referred to themselves as Anbu.  They were fighting for control of the only planet in the territory able to support life, a planet they ultimately did help colonise and was later named Nagi.

 

However, all around them, despite the discovery of new planets and so many new established clusters, the population at large still continued to grow, at a rate most groups couldn’t sustain, because surviving in space required technology that was much more efficient than what they had.

 

Eventually, Nagi was exposed to this, too.

 

But this was when the first magic started to appear, when magic was no longer something only found in fairy tales, when the tailed beasts rose from their slumber, and destroyed the Earth in a fit rage, only to scatter

 

So, as the race for depleting resources continued and caused more and more upheavals, more and more people began to see magic users as the reason for their troubles, began to blame magic for the cause of the upheavals.

 

One by one, as magic users began to disappear, as entire families were torn apart, generations upon generation never to be seen again, and that was what began the Second Great War.

 

But when the dust finally settled, only two major powers remained: the Alliance and the Federation. 

 

Or along the lines of something like that.

 

He thinks that the version he heard when he was kid, although it’s a very brief and overly simplified version of events, especially with the allusions to genocide.  He probably mangled it up, but the gist of the same.  That part of their history is very important to the magic user community, so it’s usually told in a way that makes it easier for kids to remember, because it’s usually a story kids first learn at home, part of a larger series of stories meant to teach the importance of keep their magic a secret.

 

It’s been a long time since he last heard most of the stories he got told as a kid, but that was where his mind instantly went to, when he’d been listening to Itachi give a more detailed description of the their unfriendlies.

 

He already knew they were armed.  That much had already been established not long after Itachi and Juugo reached the dale, alongside the way the carried themselves, not like soldiers trained by either the Alliance or the Federation.

 

Most likely mercenaries, Itachi said.  And Naruto agreed.  The sort of hired hands who were less likely to ask questions, because there really were better ways to go about doing something like this, whether they were affiliated with any specific group or not.

 

But while Itachi admitted he didn’t know who these mercenaries were working for, it still seemed like he was leaning toward the idea it was him they were after; the way Itachi was talking around the issues, it almost felt like Itachi thought it was even something against him personally, indifferent as his voice was.

 

According to Juugo, though, the mercenaries aren’t the same as the Masked Men who enslaved his people.  Unlike the masks Juugo’s Masked Men wore, probably some kind of protective ceramic, and more colourful and animalistic in style (like the kind of puppet mask worn during those really old theatre productions on Nagi, Sasuke suggested), the masks the mercenaries are wearing, they’re a lot thinner, all black, like the rest of their attire, with a sort of net mesh for sockets, small grey screens where the eyes would be—gas masks.

 

Honestly, Naruto doesn’t know if that’s better or worse, because it presents this almost certainty that more than one group knows about Barrah, but when Itachi describe physical aspects of their attire, more than just the possible weapons and gear at their disposal, the thing that truly rattled Naruto, the bombshell Itachi decided to drop on him at the very last minute, during the very last time they made contact with each other...

 

The idea of people in masks could be bad enough on its own, because there really is something creepy about not being able to see someone else’s face, but these mercenaries, further cloaked by the wide hoods worn over their heads, apparently, there’s a faint symbol displayed on their masks, more grey than black, across the bottom half, right in the centre, only large enough to hint where the mouth would be, that Itachi said was remarkably familiar, although a symbol he was still reluctant to make any kind of presumptions about, because it was the same symbol that has always been formally associated with _Root_.

 

Three solid and wide, slightly v-shaped horizontal lines, close together but evenly spaced, like a triple chevron, followed beneath by two more broken lines, and in between those creating a basic outline of what essentially represents their name—when Itachi had dropped that bombshell, just hearing him say it, the way Naruto’s heart just lurched in his chest, the way it felt like the ground had suddenly been removed from underneath his feet.

 

To hell with that being just some random mark, and especially not with that kind placement, that shit couldn’t be coincidence.

 

Because that’s the symbol members of Root had to wear, supposedly had to get it tattooed on the back of their tongues, hidden proof of their loyalty.

 

It was a symbol that some people would still wear a badge of pride, showing it off as tattoo on their arm or wherever, even after Root was forcibly disbanded.

 

Even after all these years, _centuries_ , a symbol most magic users either already know, or will eventually come to know.

 

Although now they’re just supposed to be stories, there are very few magic users in Nagi who haven’t been affected in some way by Root.  And with so many different versions of those still floating stories around, any story is only supposed to serve as cautionary tale, as dark as they are, still the kind of thing kids just grow up hearing, reminding them how important it is to hide their magic, to always be careful of the people they choose to trust.

 

Wearing that symbol doesn’t necessarily have to mean Root’s suddenly back in full force.  There have been failed attempts to revive the group in the past, with plenty of groups that have tried to masquerade as Root—except to openly wear that symbol at all, a symbol that’s probably not as widely known among non-magic users, and a symbol people just don’t see anymore.

 

Because even those attempts back then are so far removed from today.  When it comes to Root, people know better than to play around with rumours like that.  There’s stirring up shit for kicks and giggles, and then there’s _this_. 

 

But Itachi’s not the type to jump to conclusions.  He’s not the type to be careless with even his own speculations, even taking his freakishly accurate hunches with more than grain of salt, because he likes to substantiate those, too, which Naruto can appreciate on many levels.

 

Itachi takes extra care to not spread false information, takes extra care to find verifiable sources, getting his facts straight before he shares his take on most things, only shares what he believes would help, without inflating the importance of it, and definitely before he decides to act on it, because, whatever conclusion he’s ultimately come to, it’s a conclusion he’s reached being as sure as he can, based just on as much the information he’s comfortable not knowing.

 

So, the fact Itachi suspects these guys have a _genuine_ connection to Root at it was first known, to hear that kind of certainty from Itachi, for Itachi to say—not suggest, but actually _say_ —that there’s a very high and distinct possibility those mercenaries are part of a growing underground movement actively working towards an actual revival of Root...

 

That’s just a whole new world of fucked up.

 

Like the absolute shitshow that continues to be Barrah really needs to be taken to new heights.

 

But still.

 

That Itachi believes Root could exist, possibly already does exist.

 

_Root._

 

Of course, it’s just like Itachi to pull shit like this at the last minute, just because he wanted to be as close as he could to being sure, but Naruto could see why Itachi waited so long to tell him.

 

No way he’d be able keep something like that from Sasuke.  One look at him, and Sasuke would’ve just _known_.  Sasuke might like to get on him for still believing in ghosts, but Root is the kind of ghost even Sasuke believes in.

 

A lot of cultures have some kind of boogeyman to scare kids in line.  The magic user community on Nagi has Root.

 

But Root wasn’t just some boogeyman hiding under the bed, or in the closet.  It wasn’t like the Namahage going door-to-door on New Year’s Eve, making sure kids behaved and obeyed their parents.

 

No, Root was _real_.

 

The kind of shit that fuelled nightmares.

 

What scared little kids into keeping their magic a secret, because revealing magic meant Root would come find them, and any magic they used could be traced back to their families, and then everyone in their family would be taken away.

 

It was easier for Root to round people up that way.  If one person had magic, it was assumed any blood relation would also have magic.  But then that came to include any family members, and eventually expanded to sympathisers, too, anyone who openly supported or was even seen standing next to a magic user.

 

With Root, though, they didn’t do it out in the open.  Even during the worst of it, Root remained unseen, its members virtually unknown.  Living in hiding, people lived in fear, not knowing who to trust, wondering if they were being hunted, if they’d be next.

 

There would be these raids, in the middle of the night, dark figures barging into homes, slaughtering entire families, mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, grandparents and grandchildren, it didn’t matter, whoever was in their path.

 

There were no safe havens.

 

And the magic users who didn’t belong to a family like Uchiha, Catalunya or Hyuuga, Merche, Karbie, or even Uzumaki, the majority of magic users who couldn’t rely on a name, those were the people Root went after.

 

Sometimes, they’d even recruit magic users, and although shadow users were the one’s who’d ultimately be ostracised for it, they weren’t the only magic users to participate in it.

 

Some of them were probably forced to do it for their own safety, or did it for the safety of those close to them.  A lot of magic users were probably tempted by money, because there wasn’t a lot opportunity.  And there were probably magic users who just didn’t care, or simply saw it as a continued means of survival.

 

What happened with Root, it happened so long ago that it practically is considered ancient history, after the First Great War, after Earth was destroyed, when a lot of people were still just trying to find a new home, and new place in the world for themselves, against the backdrop of well-established, military-based factions still competing among themselves for power.

 

Root was actually an offshoot of Anbu, which was already considered one of the most powerful factions on Nagi.  What led to Root’s creation was a split within Anbu itself, due to the growing dissatisfaction among members over what to do with the sudden influx of people migrating to Nagi, and especially considering the tension rising between non-magic and magic users, with an increasing number of members deciding to branch off.

 

That was also where Sasuke’s family came in; the Uchiha clan was nowhere near as large as it is today, but they were still large enough to make a significant contribution in the systematic fight against anti-magic sentiment, using their power and their influence as this relatively small police force, allying themselves with Anbu, along with other military factions and clans of magic users, during the early stages of the genocide.

 

In the beginning, it only started with a few people going missing.  At first, there were long months between each disappearance, and then weeks, with no real connection discovered between any of them, because who would’ve thought there was a group out there specifically targeting magic users.

 

Both when those weeks became days, became hours, became minutes, and when it didn’t become so uncommon for the people reported missing to turn up as dead bodies within a matter of days, when it became more and more common to find the dead bodies of people that hadn’t been reported missing, it was already too late.  There was already a momentum going.

 

And for a lot of families, to find a body at all was considered lucky, because still a lot of times when people went missing, their bodies were never found.

 

Although that sentiment didn’t last long, when the mass killings went far beyond Root, far beyond Nagi, when other groups would go on raids, too, and in broad daylight looking for magic users, trying to smoke them out, people in general just turning on magic users as a whole, which would eventually turn into the spectacle that then became public torture and executions.

 

People found creative ways to entertain themselves.

 

There’s a history of water users being burned alive.

 

There’s a history of wind users being tied up and stoned to death.

 

Wind users were bound and stoned to death, which would sometimes be a public affair.

 

Fire users, for some reason, there was this big thing about drowning them, would draw the some of the largest crowds gathered around a fire user being held face-down into a shallow body of water, people staring captivated as they watched another life struggle, cheering at each spasm and twitch, until that life was gone, and there was nothing left to see.

 

(When Shisui died, the fact that he was a fire user, and his body was found near a river, seemingly drowned, some people took that as a sign that Shisui’s death was being used as an example, a message to the Uchiha family.)

 

Although Root became one the biggest movers and shakers behind the near eradication of magic users, early on, they had allied with groups that shared their ideologies shunning magic as unnatural, and some of those groups would eventually come to make up the Federation, but Root itself, although it did employ outside forces, and in turn deployed some of their own members work with other groups that held anti-magic sentiment, their mainstay was still Nagi.

 

And they were growing in power, almost exponentially.  During the genocide, people continued to sign up to join the cause.  A lot of similar, military-based factions that probably did have the power to at least do something, claimed neutrality against what would now be considered war crimes, and chose not get involved, fearing some sort of retaliation.

 

So, the more people found they could get away with, the more they continued to do.

 

For the Alliance, it’s a dark part of history a lot of non-magic users don’t like discuss, in many schools there to read but not always taught to see, because many of those groups that chose not to intervene, that enabled a lot of those actions by simply not speaking up against them, would later be recognised as key groups in the formation of the Alliance.

 

Eventually, through selective intervention, the leaders of Root were found, tried, convicted for their participation in the decimation of an entire people.  Hundreds of members were tried, too.  Root was forced to disband. 

 

Root, as the organisation it was known during the Second Great War, hasn’t been heard of since.

 

Because the last time he heard, Root didn’t exist.  Last time he heard, Root was just one of those stories kids like him grew up being told.

 

But these weren’t the kinds of stories kids used to play heroes and monsters.

 

In these stories, there were just monsters. 

 

Naruto curses under his breath, when he realises his arm’s actually shaking.  Must’ve fallen asleep on it again, because there’s that weird tingle, that somehow at the same time feels numb.

 

He’s putting their ETA at another forty, forty-five minutes, tops.   

 

He could really use his squad with him right now.  Actually, he could use a lot of things right now, but he wonders how they’re doing.  He misses them, too, like everyone else back home, almost wishes they were here to watch his six, just like old times again, because his trusts them, as much they trust him, in the same way he already knows, without even having to ask, they’d extend that trust to Sasuke, too.

 

After everything went ass-up during that mission in Doraf, him and his squad, they got real close after that.  Having near-death experiences does that to people. Shit like that leaves scars.

 

He still hasn’t told anyone about what happened between him and Mizuki, what made want to run away that day, the things Mizuki said, but he’s put it behind him.  He’s not the insecure little kid anymore.

 

And yet for all his bravado, despite the experience he does have under his belt, especially for a third-year cadet, he’s still pretty damn green.  He’s got nothing on Itachi’s years.

 

But he’s almost made it to last year at the Academy.  He’s less than three months away.  He’s supposed to graduate next year.  He still has that to look forward to, graduating with the rest of his squad, like he’s always wanted to, even he though he won’t get to graduate with Sasuke by his—

 

His own inexperience begins to prickle at his nerves, eats at him the crushing weight of the responsibility on his shoulders.

 

His chest swells, and the lump in his throat takes a few times to swallow, tongue coated dry, thick in his mouth, his lips cracked that don’t take much to make bleed, but he doesn’t reach for the small canteen pouch.

 

They’re okay.  For now, at least.  That’s something he can tell himself.  That’s something he can believe, that he wants to believe.  For a moment, he almost lets himself.

 

This doesn’t mean it has to be a no-win scenario.

 

It just means he doesn’t have a lot of options right now.

 

He looks down at his gloved hand, fingers left exposed.  He makes a fist, fingers curled against his palms, before he opens his hand, turns it over.

 

_Shit._

 

His hand’s still shaking.

 

Why is his hand shaking?

 

Stuck on the ass end of an already shitty situation

 

Really, it’s just such a shitty situation all around.

 

Maybe if it was just him and Itachi, maybe it’d be different, maybe he’d feel a little more confident about going all out, but Sasuke’s here, too.

 

Sasuke _is_ his responsibility.

 

He feels his breath catch, again swallows as his stomach churns, suddenly forced to face his own wavering certainty, but he has to push through this.  He going to do this, even if it’s only to keep up with the kind of bravado it’s always been easier to put around Sasuke, because he has to be strong for him.

 

He can’t afford to doubt himself now, because Sasuke’s depending on him.   Out here, he’s all Sasuke has.

 

He could do this.

 

He will do this.

 

He has to do this.

 

Because right now, all he can think about is the last time he spoke with Itachi, before the signal was jammed, almost eight hours ago, before their communication was forcibly cut off, because there was something in Itachi’s voice Naruto doesn’t want to acknowledge, too close to an unsaid goodbye, worse than ominous, it sounded a little too finite.

 

_“...you’re not being fair, Itachi.  What about you and Juugo?  What am I supposed to tell Sasuke?”_

_“You don’t have to tell him anything.”_

_“What aren't you saying, Itachi?  Does it have to do with Danzou?  Is that why you—“_

_“I won't ask you to forgive me.  There's a part of me that suspects even Sasuke won't forgive me.  Also realise I’m being selfish, to continue asking so much of you, to have even put you in this situation._

_“Yet despite that, I’m entrusting Sasuke in your care.  Again, I ask that you continue taking care of Sasuke, and that you continue to keep him safe._

_“...how am I supposed to do that?”_

_“It’s the same thing you’ve already been doing, what you’ve always done.  That’s all I can ask of you.”_

_“But what if this time—what if this time, it’s not enough?”_

_“What you do has always been enough, Naruto.  Don’t doubt that.  Don’t doubt the person you’ve become.”_

_“But how can you be so sure, when I don’t even know what I’m doing.  When I can’t even...”_

_“You’ve always watched over Sasuke.  You’ve taken better care of my brother than I was ever able capable of doing”_

_“Itachi, that’s not tru—”_

_“I trust you, Naruto.  And I know you’re far more capable than you’ve ever allowed yourself to believe.  No matter what happ—”_

_“Nothing’s going to—”_

_“Uzumaki.”_

_“…yeah—I mean, yes.  Yes, sir.”_

_“I need you to listen carefully._

_“Sir.”_

_“No matter what happens, you do not wait for me._

_“Whatever you have to do to ensure both Sasuke’s and your safety, I expect you to do it.  The moment you have the opportunity to leave, I expect you take it._

_That is your first priority—your only priority.  Once you leave Barrah, fly low. Head to the station on Gaol, but do not make your presence known._

_“Contact either Commander Hatake or Commander Dougan on a secure line.  Do not attempt to contact anyone else.  If you fail to make immediate contact, send a secure message to both Sai and Neji.  And you wait._

_“Understood?”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_“Take care of yourself, Naruto.”_

_“Itachi...”_

_“I know you’ll take care of Sasuke, but you need to let him take care of you, too.”_

 

_“But Sasuke isn’t—”_

_“Take care of each other.”_

_“...”_

_“And Naruto, I...”_

_“...yeah?”_

_“Naruto, I’m sor—”_

 

He flinches at the sudden buzz coming from his comm, a slight static crackle in his ear.  He doesn’t know why he’s still wearing this thing.  It’s not doing him any favours.  He hasn’t been able to pick up a signal for hours.

 

All this thinking.

 

All this doing nothing.

 

Going nowhere.

 

All a waste of time, except he doesn’t have anything else to do.

 

Just waiting.

 

And waiting.

 

On top of even more waiting.

 

No use questioning what’s already been done, what he can’t change.

 

Funny, though.  Right now, he wouldn’t mind having to wait a little more.

 

There’s a soft beep.  On the right lenses of his goggles he’s notified of an incoming alert.  He opens it, reading that the scanner had detected sustained motions a couple kilometres out, the maximum range it could be programmed to.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Bad guys usually wear all black, right?

 

The forms are still faint through his goggles, grainy in the distance, a party of at least four or five blurred dots coming his way.

 

And here he forgot to think of a gift.

 

He tries to enhance the image, one hand readjusting the side, touch dial to zoom in a bit more, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to get much clearer, not with the way the wind’s starting to pick up.  Can’t tell if this could still be part of the four-man cell Itachi told him about.  They’re barely in range, with their individual forms still too blurry to get a good read on them.

 

Can’t sense any magic from them, either, though.  That’s something.

 

He’s got another twenty minutes.  Maybe.  Still enough time to leave his position without being seen.  At least he can do that comfortably.

 

With a grunt, he starts to sit up, the thin blanket over his head falling over one shoulder when he stands, as he brushes away at the sand and tiny jagged rocks sticking to his clothes and all over his skin.  He runs a hand through his hair, bending back down to collect the rest of his things.

 

Might as well go wake Sasuke up, now.

 

They’re here.

 


	10. Dirty Harry IX: Don’t Get Lost in Heaven

It’s the strangest sensation.

 

It feels like...

 

It almost feels like he’s floating—or maybe he’s slowly falling, his body lying slowly in motion, lying the wrong way round.

 

He feels almost weightless, despite the heaviness dropped up to his chest, as if the ground had been abruptly pulled from beneath him, as if he’d fallen out from the sky.

 

He continues to fall, a gradual descent into nothingness, a perpetual darkness that surrounds him, still save for the slightest notion of muffled sound, marked by an ebbing silence, a surging dissonance somehow muted to his ears, as if he were being gradually submerged in water, drifting slowly and slower still, sinking even farther, and yet it begins to feel somehow as if he’s drowning on air, as he continues to fall, a mounting pressure in his head as his breaths begin to quicken, as his limbs flail against the emptiness closing in from all around him, a hollow ache in his chest, an encroaching sense of _loss_ , burying him in a space suddenly grown too small, too far down below, trapped beneath the surface, his movements frantic, desperately clawing at nothing, reaching for something, _someone_ , through the garbled sound of his own voice calling out for—

_Wake, Sachi._

 

There’s a light nudge, beckoning, a slight tug to his consciousness, another presence he can sense, not wholly apparent, an almost agitated concern, and yet oddly reassuring, oddly hesitant, with another this time more careful nudge, overlapped with a presence distinctly familiar he’s seemingly always known.

_You are not alone._

 

With a soft exhale, Sasuke opens his eyes.

 

Blue, he thinks.

 

Caught far across an ocean between its sky, a thought not quite fleeting that strays in his mind, too blue, if there could ever be such a thing, as his sight gradually begins to grow less dim, slowly bled from blue shadowed grey, a narrowed gaze shrewd the first thing he sees, an image of Naruto’s face still somewhat hazy all he can see, Naruto hovering above him, kneeled beside him—in his peripheral Naruto’s arms enclosed on either side of him, from Naruto a distinctive warmth that envelopes him, staves off the cold.

 

He squints, all but frowns at the faint light surrounding Naruto.  Nearly absent in colour, it bathes him in a soft glow, like a flame, effervescent, scarcely tinted red with the barest hints of gold, a force in constant motion, the smallest shifts in varying directions, except it’s not Naruto’s life force.

 

It’s something more than just Naruto, something much more visceral, another presence nearly indistinguishable from Naruto’s own, much more pronounced Kyuubi’s presence he’s never felt like this before.

 

But then it’s gone.

 

It doesn’t return.

 

Yet in its place he notices the near quiet, a different kind of stillness, abnormal the air around them, despite Naruto leaning over him, as if he were using his body to shield him.

 

They’re encased in a barrier, he realises, one of Naruto’s protective wind barriers.

 

It’s not like the magic Naruto used against Juugo, though; that was an energy field that served more as an offensive manoeuvre, a brutal torrent of winds meant to maim, travelling fast enough to instantly slice through whatever or whoever came too close, and with Naruto’s reserves, a highly destructive barrier with the potential to cover a substantial radius—yet even then Naruto wasn’t using anywhere near the full extent of his magical ability.

 

This kind of barrier barely scratches the surface of Naruto’s abilities, the type of defensive barrier he can maintain easily, even without the use of his hands to channel his magic, but apparently still strong enough to keep out what looks to be a wave of debris periodically dropped from the ceiling of the cave.

 

As versatile as Naruto can be with his magic, the veritable powerhouse he is, Sasuke was never under any delusion that he’d ever be able to surpass Naruto, at least not in terms of raw magic or stamina, but at the very least, he still wanted to believe he’d be able to catch up to him, that one day in his own right he’d be able to stand next to him.

 

He doesn’t know where he stands now, but while he will freely acknowledge Naruto’s abilities, Naruto just as capable of wielding Kyuubi’s magic in addition to his own, it’s still a side of Naruto he hasn’t been able to fully appreciate—having grown up being exposed to so many magic users considered exceptional by anyone’s standards, it’s simply the kind of calibre he’s used to being around, but with the apparent ease Naruto’s able to execute an advanced technique like this, to have this much control over his magic, with that kind of precision, just how far has Naruto left him behind? 

 

Another wave of debris flutters to the ground, debris as small as the tiny specks of sand still sprinkled across Naruto’s face, and Sasuke blinks, eyelids moved in rapid succession.

 

“—suke?”

 

He noticed the quiet, but he doesn’t register that Naruto’s trying to get his attention, not until there comes a sudden rush of sound, Naruto’s voice becoming clearer, catching up to match the movements of his mouth.

 

“—ou with me this time?”

 

He starts to speak, tries to speak, but the attempt only yields a negligible sound.  His throat feels too scratchy, his body suddenly too heavy, and yet his head unbearably light, his senses for a moment almost dulled, as his fingers absently curl into his palms, in both hands formed a loose hold, gripping the ribbed cuffs of Itachi’s jacket sleeves already pulled past his wrists.

 

“Sorry about your murals.  They’re probably not going to survive this, but, uh...”  Around an uneven smile, Naruto gives a strained sort of chuckle, an empty laugh lacking humour.  “Yeah, we’ve got company.”

 

Still a little groggy, listless, it takes Sasuke too long to form a single word, the sound of his own voice grating.   “...company?”

 

“A bunch of unfriendlies—mercenaries, I guess I should say.  Definitely after us.  But at least they’re not magic users.

 

“It actually hasn’t been that long.  I was trying to give you a little more time, trying to get a better feel for what we’re up against, but, well.  You see.  Lucky for us, these tunnels aren’t so easy to get around, if you’re not already used to them, even if these guys weren’t being so thorough."

 

Again, Sasuke blinks, licking his lips, brow scrunched, because Naruto still hasn’t moved, still peering down at him.  Naruto’s not the type to be flashy with his magic, doesn’t like to use it without reason.  There has to be something about the air, more than just the debris.  “Your magic, what are you...”

 

“Of course you’d notice.”  Naruto gives a light snort, but it’s with a sardonic sort of amusement short-lived.  “Haven’t been able to pick up anything from them communications-wise, either, and I still don’t know what their motive is, but it doesn’t seem like they know we’re here.  Not yet at least.  For now, just looks like they’re taking extra precautions, trying to flush us out.”

 

“Gas?” Sasuke says, the first thought that comes to mind, what he immediately infers, and the people after them, the fact that Naruto referred to them as mercenaries, increasing the likelihood they came prepared to deal with magic users, resorting to that kind of tactic, they’re probably using some type of neuros.

 

Although he hasn’t had any personal experience with them, short for neurological inhibitors, neuros is what most people usually call them.  They’re nothing new in the world of weapons tech, the concept of poisoning with nerve agents having been around more than long enough, but they still remain a controversial topic, technically illegal in certain matters of officially declared warfare, yet their continued use fully government-supported, evidenced by all the money the Alliance continues to pour into further development and research.

 

While the technology itself is mildly regulated, neuros have more prevalent usage outside the military, especially among smaller, still warring sectors with less access to resources, in particular those that don’t fall under the direct purview of either the Alliance or the Federation.

 

However, compared to conventional weapons, they’re still a less established technology, nerve agents in their most recent developments more highly experimental, their effects mostly unpredictable, due to a quality standard overall much less consistent with the types of chemicals and materials often used to create whatever desired neurological reactions, in a wide array of forms used for implementation, which, unsurprisingly, also makes them one of the most sought after items on the black market.

 

Yet what makes neuros so controversial, unlike previous versions of nerve agents usually considered lethal, is the fact they’re specifically created with the intent to incapacitate, while allowing the victim to remain conscious, touted with formulas purportedly able to attack isolated aspects of the nervous system, inducing controlled debilitating effects, including varying levels of disorientation, temporary paralysis, and sometimes even delirium.

 

There’s a lot of potential for misuse, plenty of cases that have ended in fatalities, too many instances recently where it has been reported that magic users were explicitly intended as targets, accredited to the newest trend of a specialised series of neuros exclusively created as a means to subdue magic users.

 

“Yeah,” Naruto says.  “I’m banking on some type of neuros.  Don’t plan on dispelling my magic to find out which one, though.”

 

That means Naruto’s defensive barrier, a seemingly near impenetrable, insulated shield, while manipulating the air around them, somehow, Naruto’s simultaneously able to filter it, too, is that attuned to such subtle shifts in the atmosphere.  Although the source itself is far enough away, the gas must have seeped through the crevices.  That’s why he’s yet to move, why he’s staying so close.

 

It’s again this more sombre side of Naruto he hasn’t really had the opportunity to consciously notice, the slightest downturn of Naruto’s lips the only show of irritation, but Naruto otherwise calm, no worse for wear under the strain that much control would normally take on most magic users, able to so easily accomplish a feat that would require such a high level of mental acuity.

 

He allows himself a grudging sort of awe, finds himself staring for a moment, when a quick glance has Naruto’s head turned to the side, by the expression on his face, Naruto internally cataloguing their situation, and for the first time it feels like he really _sees_ Naruto, inexplicable, this belated realisation of how much stronger Naruto’s actually become, how much Naruto probably doesn’t even think to tell him, intentionally or not, further cementing how much more Naruto himself doesn’t allow him to know.

 

“Like I said,” Naruto continues, returning his attention to Sasuke, “it hasn’t been that long.  So far, they’ve just been detonating neuros all over the place, but judging by the timing, I’ll give it another twenty minutes or so, until we really have to haul as—”

 

There’s a loud explosion, although still far enough away from them, a deep rumble that seems to echo throughout the entire cave system, dislodging slightly larger pieces of rubble from the ceiling.

 

“Tch.  They’re going to bring the whole place down at this rate,” Naruto says.  “Other than that, though, everything seems stable enough for now, except the way they keep setting those things off, I don’t know how long that’s going to last.”

 

“You already have a plan.”

 

“Eh, something like that.  Pretty much have the all clear on the ship.  Diagnostics went through.  Everything’s good to go.  We just have to get there.  But I’m thinking we’ll need to take a detour to the prison, since it’s closer.  Hopefully, that’ll give us some time to regroup, maybe even a chance to throw them off for a bit.

 

“It’s either that or risk leading them right to the ship, so... ”

 

“...Itachi and Juugo, have you contacted them?  Are they going to meet us there?”

 

“They’re fine.”

 

“That’s not what I asked.  Don’t lie to me, Naruto.”

 

“I’m not lying to you.  The last time I talked to Itachi, he was fine—him and Juugo, they’re both going to be fine.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“No, it means what I said.  It means they’re not the ones with the bad guys closing in on them, so really, I can’t help it if Itachi and Juugo aren’t exactly my priority right now.”

 

Lips drawn tight, almost grim, there’s a slight quirk to the corner of Naruto’s mouth, silently daring Sasuke to challenge him.

 

But Sasuke doesn’t.  He won’t.  Instead, he reaches for the left cuff of Itachi’s jacket sleeve, while he holds Naruto’s gaze, fingers curling and unfurling.

 

“Sasuke, I...”  Naruto sighs, without disrupting his barrier, moving to sit beside him, leaving little space between them, as he runs a hand through his hair no longer framed by goggles.

 

“Listen, whatever it takes, no matter what it takes, I’m going to get us out of here.  Getting us to the ship is my priority— _you’re_ my priority.  That’s what Itachi said, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

 

It’s more than that, but Sasuke doesn’t think to push the issue, as his magic unwittingly rises to the surface, magic he knows he’s in no condition to use, but his magic trying to soothe him, a gentle lull in the back of his mind slowly taking over him, as he tries not to think of the last time he spoke to his brother, tries not to wonder if there’ll ever be a next time again, the words he didn’t mean to say, the burden it seems he’s always been, will always be, but he has to keep Naruto safe, because it’s coming, something coming towards them, something he has to keep Naruto away fr—

 

“—ake up, Sasuke.  Look at me.”

 

...look at me?

 

Sasuke doesn’t think not to comply, looks at the face above him, looks into Naruto’s eyes again close to him.

 

“Where are you right now?”

 

“Five.”

 

“Oh.”  Naruto blinks.  “That’s actually pretty—”

 

“Five of them—five, there were five of them.  It’s three and two now, but it’s two of them they’re searching for, two of us, searching for one of us, both of us, three of them—get rid of them, getting closer, but they don’t know, can’t know, don’t want to know.”

 

His voice sounds distant even to his ears, seems to fade, carries words it doesn’t feel like he’s speaking, the product of thoughts and emotions muddled, jumbled a constant stream of consciousness, faint the edges of whispers that aren’t even his own.

 

“Why does it have to be me?  I need to get it back again.  Four of them and one of me.  There’s resentment—he resents them, but they can’t know.  He’s stuck with them.  He’s afraid of them.  That’s why he’s here.  That’s why he chose to go, because he can’t go back there, because he’s not one of them, because he doesn’t want to di—”

 

The words stop at the warmth against his cheeks, as Sasuke leans into the hands holding his face, swallows at the persistent call of his name.

 

There it is again.

 

And again.

 

The cave, he remembers.  Naruto’s here.  They’re still in the cave.  He’s with Naruto. 

 

Breathing slowly, he tries to gather his thoughts, left more than a little shaken, more than he’s comfortably willing to admit.

 

But having Naruto here helps.  Naruto simply being around him, a reassuring constant that’s always helped ground him, it gives him something to focus on, helps him better keep his own emotions in, while separating them from everything else he tries to keep out.

 

He closes his eyes, opens them again to meet Naruto’s sharp stare, because Naruto knows the implications of what it means when Sasuke’s unconsciously able to pick up on another person’s intent, how clearly another person’s emotions are coming across, especially from that far away, and his voice is firm, leaving no room for compromise, the kind of tone he rarely uses, when he asks again, “Where are you, Sasuke?”

 

“...still a two.”

 

Naruto breathes out with a forced sigh.  “Okay.”  He gives a slow nod.  “Okay, we can still work with that.  I know you’re still a little out of it—a lot out of it, because you’re still not where you should be, but—”

 

“I know.”  Sasuke places his hands over Naruto’s arms, as he begins to sit up, carefully removing Naruto’s hands away from his face.  When Naruto moves to help him, he doesn’t resist the hands reaching to steady him, the hands running along his sides, smoothing down Itachi’s jacket, but he does resist the temptation to lean into Naruto's arms, before Naruto pulls away.

 

“You good?”

 

“Yeah.  I was just...”

 

“All right.  You feel up to using your shadow magic?”

 

It’s one of his preferred elements, arguably the one he has the most affinity with, comes to him almost as easily as his life magic.

 

“I can do it.”

 

Naruto watches him, expression carefully blank.  “When I get us out of here, you think you can hold out long enough to make it back to the prison?”

 

Probably.

 

Maybe.

 

But he hasn’t forgotten Naruto’s words from before, understands why Naruto was so upset with him, the reprimand for being so reckless, his own impulsiveness wasting his already low reserves trying to raise the ship, disregarding what both Itachi and Naruto had repeatedly told him not to do.

 

Whether or not he was trying to help, regardless of his still growing trepidations, the instinct wanting to alleviate Naruto’s pain, wanting to make things better for Naruto the only way he knew how, he knows he shouldn’t have done it.

 

It may not be his fault they’re being pursued, but it is his fault that he’s made the situation harder on Naruto.

 

He knows he was wrong.

 

“It’s my shadow magic,” he says, keeps his voice even, hoping to convey a confidence that isn’t just for Naruto’s sake.  “It’ll hold.”

 

Naruto looks like he wants to argue, with narrowed eyes stares at him long enough that Sasuke doubts he’s fooled by the feigned confidence, if he ever would be, yet Naruto doesn’t say anything about it.

 

Instead, he reaches for his jacket Sasuke had been using as a makeshift pillow.  Throwing the jacket behind him, he pulls both arms through the sleeves, shrugs the jacket over his shoulders, then absently adjusts the collar, leaving the zipper undone.

 

“I won’t be able to keep this barrier up for much longer,” he says.  “It was fine before, but they’re going to notice some kind of displacement in the air eventually.  I can’t exactly hide that.”

 

“What about a distraction?  Would that be too much of a risk?”

 

“Probably.  But that’s what I’ve been thinking, too.  Only thing left now, is to make it there. 

 

“They have some kind of disrupter, so the comm link’s been jammed.  Haven’t been able to get anything, which means it’s just us.  Maybe if we get far enough out of range, once we’re back at the ship, we can—”

 

Another explosion rocks the cave, this one seemingly closer in proximity, a few floors beneath them, and Naruto grits his teeth, pulling away his hand he’d placed on Sasuke’s shoulder.

 

“You’d think they’d know better not to set off so many explosives in a rocky place like this that’s already on the verge of falling apart.”  He looks towards the single entrance with a frown, muttering a curse underneath his breath.

 

Sasuke follows his gaze, aware of Naruto’s barrier still around them.  “The mercenaries,” he says, “they’re getting closer.  Only three of them, though.  The other two, they’re not...”

 

As soon as Naruto’s barrier is dispelled, Sasuke begins to stand, moving to reach for his retracted sword stood against the wall, but Naruto grabs him first, as they’re hit with another blast, this one louder, seemingly right below them, as Naruto pulls Sasuke towards him closer, hand cradling the back of Sasuke’s head.

 

“Not yet,” comes a gruff whisper, with a grunt, Naruto pushing Sasuke to the floor, crouched over him —a short gust of wind breaking apart the large chunk of rock that would’ve fallen on top of them, but then Naruto’s free hand’s on the floor, palm down, and there’s another low rumble, the whistle of a harsh crescendo that ruptures with a high-pitched shriek, as everything around them continues to shake.

 

But it was just air.

 

It was Naruto’s magic, a fissure of air gone through presumably solid rock beneath them, timed with the last explosion, rippled tremors along the cave floor.

 

“That should hold them back long enough.”

 

Ignoring the slight ringing in his ears, Sasuke peers up at Naruto with narrowed eyes.  “What the hell was that?” he hisses.

 

“That was five minutes before this whole place goes down on us.”

 

“And you couldn’t have said something before?”

 

Threatening the integrity of the entire cave structure, that Naruto’s magic is actually strong enough to displace that much rock at once, and that quickly, with no sign of fatigue, it’s amazing how Naruto can still surprise him.  But Sasuke doesn’t have time to marvel over Naruto’s prowess.

 

Because it’s still _Naruto_.

 

“ _Have you lost your goddamn mind?_ ”

 

“I thought we agreed on needing a distraction,” Naruto scowls, defensive.  “And I just gave us a pretty damn good one.”  He pushes off from the floor, pushes off on his heels, pulling Sasuke with him as he stands, breaking out into a near run, barely giving Sasuke time to grab his sword by the hilt, awkwardly fastening the sword to his side.

 

“No, you’re trying to bury us alive.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, argue with me later.  We need to un-ass ten minutes ago.”

 

Passing through the entrance, Sasuke nearly trips, but Naruto’s grip is firm, not letting him fall, leading them farther into the tunnels, into the deeper recesses of the caves, except they’re not going down.  They’re going—

 

“The only way out is up,” Naruto says, glancing at Sasuke from over his shoulder, fingers sliding from Sasuke’s arm to wrap around Sasuke’s hand.  “Going to have to make our own extraction point.”

 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

 

“Standing operating procedure.”

 

The last thing it sounds like is SOP, but some of Naruto’s best ideas have been off the cuff, with his usual wilful confidence, Naruto making it up as he goes along, many of his plans impromptu, with the sometimes annoying tendency to turn out better than Sasuke’s attempts on his own.

 

Apparently, Naruto does seem to know what he’s doing, though, seems to know exactly where they’re going, pulling him along, navigating an intricate network of darkened passageways without pause, anticipating each corner and twist, despite sparse offerings of day, brief glimpses of Barrah’s sun peeking intermittent through cracks enlarging pockets of light increasingly wider, as Naruto takes them higher, leads them directly outside the caves, beneath the threshold of a large, arched opening, overlooking the horizon from the side of the cliff.

 

They stutter to a stop.

 

Seemingly at a dead end, bright light assaults his eyes, Naruto’s arm held out in front of him, Naruto pushing Sasuke behind him, preventing Sasuke from going any further towards the ledge.

 

Sasuke swallows hard, arms quick to reach around Naruto’s waist, mouth parted with stilted gasps each tired breath, pulling Naruto tight against his chest, pulling Naruto back towards the cave, as he watches fall over the edge bits of rock and sand kicked up by their shoes.

 

It’s steep, pretty much a straight shot down, what has to be no less than an eighty-metre drop.

 

“You were saying.”

 

“…okay, so maybe I didn’t think this part completely through.”  Naruto breathes out slowly, measured, controlled, takes careful steps back, careful steps Sasuke takes with him, as the arms around him let go.

 

“SOP can only take you so far,” he says, still positioned between Sasuke and the precariously short ledge.  A slight shift of his weight between his feet, slightly widening his stance, he turns towards Sasuke, back facing the wall, but giving himself a vantage point that allows him to see both outside past the ledge and the entrance they came through.  “Doesn’t look like anyone’s down there at least.  That much I was counting on.  I don’t know for how much longer, though.” 

 

 “What now?”

 

“Want to fly?”

 

Sasuke blinks.  “Fly?”

 

“So...”  There’s a dangerous gleam in Naruto’s eyes, as he smiles at Sasuke wide, wearing the rash kind of wayward grin that usually precluded all the stupid shit he used to pull before being accepted into the Academy.  “Remember when a bunch of us from the old neighbourhood used to pretend we were ninja, and I broke my leg, when I thought I could use my magic to scale the fence and go across the roof?”

 

Stupid shit just like that.

 

(To this day, probably why Naruto has no qualms using the back window to let himself into Sasuke’s room—never mind that Sasuke’s the one who unlocks it for him, even if Naruto already has all the access codes to get past any key panel.)

 

But Sasuke immediately makes the connection, infers exactly what Naruto has in mind.  “You want us to jump.”

 

“We’re going to have to jump.”

 

“That’s your plan.”

 

“That’s my plan.”

 

“…I wasn’t being serious.”

 

“Since when you’d get a fear of heights, scaredy-cat?”

 

“Who said anything about being scared?  I’m not afraid of heights.  You’re the one who can’t handle a little free fall.”

 

Tilting his chin up a little, feet planted on the floor, Naruto leans a little closer to peer over the edge, waits a deliberate second or two, before turning on Sasuke a wry stare.  “I get where we’re going with this,” he says, with a casual wave of his hand gesturing back and forth between them, “but no way is that a little free fall.”

 

“...you said we’ll be okay,” Sasuke says, low, stepping forward with a hand reaching for the thin, ball chain around Naruto’s neck, fingers slipping lower, stopped to pull on Naruto’s dog tags to draw him closer.  “You always say everything’s going to be okay.”

 

“...yeah.”  Closing his eyes, Naruto breathes in softly, breathes out.  He opens his eyes, newly determined, resolute in his gaze, with a single look reaffirming all the reasons why it’s always been so, so _easy_ to trust everything he says.  “Yeah, we got this.  You and me.  We can do this.  Just like always.”

 

Naruto’s lying.

 

He knows Naruto’s lying.

 

But that’s never stopped him from believing in Naruto before.

 

“You don’t have to sound so calm about it, though,” Naruto mutters.

 

“It was your idea.”  Sasuke releases Naruto’s dog tags, raising both hands to place over Naruto’s cheeks, fingers resting against Naruto’s temples, as Naruto shudders in anticipation.  “Here’s your warning.”

 

“ _Gah_ —that was not a warning.”  Naruto shivers with a grimace, cringes as another shudder passes through him, as Sasuke’s shadow magic washes over him.  “I hate it when you do that.”

 

“You would’ve complained either way.”

 

Sasuke lets his hands fall away from Naruto’s face, absently watching Naruto through greyed vision, slightly blurred the edges of Naruto’s silhouette almost halted stalled movements, immediately drawn to Naruto’s life force, a vibrant white, but within it are the tiniest little tears, along the inside of Naruto’s arms the source of what could hardly be called scratches barely even there, where his gaze lingers too long the smallest of nicks littered across Naruto’s skin, not even bleeding, but Naruto’s not supposed to...

 

Because Naruto’s always…

 

Naruto’s always…

 

There’s a hand holding Sasuke’s chin, firm yet gentle, in blue eyes an unfaltering concern, as Naruto tilts Sasuke’s head towards him.  “When you’re already like this, Sasuke, why are you still doing that?”

 

A little breathless, a little bleary, Sasuke blinks, unable to gauge Naruto’s expression.  “…doing what?”

 

“Sasuke, you...”  Naruto shakes his head, shakes himself out of whatever stupor that had him staring at Sasuke, placing his arms around Sasuke instead.  “Nothing.  Never mind.  It’s okay.”

 

“Naruto?”

 

“It’s okay.  You’re okay—we’re okay.  Just hold on to me, all right.  I got you.”

 

Sasuke doesn’t say anything, ignoring the slight waver in Naruto’s voice, but he lets himself be held, placing his arms around Naruto’s shoulders, fingers clutching the back of Naruto’s jacket in his hands gripped too tight.

 

“...on three, okay.”

 

“...okay.”

 

“One...”

 

Naruto can be an impatient guy sometimes, every so often with the kind of attention span that wouldn’t allow him to make it past two, but even knowing that still doesn’t prepare Sasuke when Naruto pushes off from his feet, with a running start Naruto suddenly propelling them forward, as Sasuke feels himself being lifted, breath seized, like the air’s been snatched from his lungs, his heart snatched from his chest, and he shuts his eyes, face lowered against the crook of Naruto’s neck, pressing himself closer, as Naruto’s magic whips around them, Naruto jumping backwards, a moment of stillness, over the edge suspended in almost absolute silence, a harrowing dive a rush of furious winds surrounding them.

 

And they’re _falling_.


	11. Dirty Harry X: Feel Good Inc. (Stanton Warriors Remix)

It’s just a graze, more likely than not just a scratch, if it’s any kind of injury at all, and that’s what Naruto keeps telling himself, because it he didn’t think it was anything serious at the time—except now it hurts a hell of a lot more than it did then.

 

Even using his magic to slow them down, he still hit the ground pretty hard.  He took the brunt of the impact, all of Sasuke’s weight, as his back smacked against sand that might as well have been that ridiculously hard floor back at the dorms.  There was only so much he could do against gravity (positioning their bodies to generate more surface area included), so he hadn’t been expecting the cushiest of landings, but it left him uncomfortably winded for a few seconds too long—wasted too much time trying to catch his breath after having the air knocked right out of him.

 

For a moment, he just let himself lie there, breathed in with a giddy sense of relief, a faint sound still heavy from his chest, echoed in a sigh that almost spilled over into near hysterical laughter.

 

And it actually was sort of funny, in the way near-death experiences usually were.

 

As a kid, his parents used to say he had too much of an overactive imagination, which was true, since he also had a certain, creative knack for all the pranks he used to pull, but that same imagination influenced so many things he discovered on his own about his wind magic, all those ideas he’d come up with out of simple curiosity; unsurprisingly, like his earliest attempts to jump fences and scale rooftops, most of them didn’t work, weren’t supposed to work, something he had to find out the hard way, but managing to survive that kind of fall with his magic alone, without Sasuke’s Influence even being involved...

 

It probably shouldn’t have worked.  There were so many reasons, too many reasons, too many opportunities for the slightest slip in concentration to make everything go wrong, and that he actually got away with it, or maybe because it was something just crazy enough that it had to work, since it took a lot less convincing than he expected, for Sasuke to agree to go along with it so quickly—although maybe that was Sasuke finally understanding the severity of their situation, especially since he didn’t give any more pushback about Itachi and Juugo.

 

Either way, Naruto’s gambit paid off.

 

Just as important, though, Sasuke was okay.  A bit roughed up, a little disoriented those first few seconds after landing, although nothing he couldn’t shake off.  And that was what Naruto focused on, making sure Sasuke stayed okay, instead of the sudden, acute pain at his side, sharp yet quick to pass, as he started to sit up, hands already examining Sasuke, swift glances too brief a onceover Sasuke didn’t object to, before he began to help Sasuke up to stand with him, gritting his teeth all the while, ignoring throughout his entire body a mine of aches and pains, not wanting to risk Sasuke needlessly using his healing magic again.

 

Of all things, it was a piece of rock that got him.  That one jagged piece of rock he apparently just had to land near, hidden beneath too many layers of sand.  It tore right through his jacket, right through his shirt, at first felt like the kind of superficial wound that was barely a nick left across his skin, but then he didn’t even have time to check whether he was bleeding because he knew they couldn’t afford to stay.   

 

Like he’d been counting on, there were no unfriendlies on the ground waiting to greet them.  They’d landed far enough away, on the other side of the narrow and steep pathway that led to the only entrance to the caves.

 

Behind them, the gorge already looked on the verge of collapse, from the inside its intricate system of tunnels and caves slowly falling in on one another—going by those murals and what Juugo said about the place, the way both Sasuke and Kyuubi said it felt them, probably thousands of years’ worth of aged rock not so silently crumbling to the ground.

 

Okay, so, maybe he did go a little overboard on that one, but the structure itself was still mostly intact, kind of left standing the last time he saw, the one time he did look back, to take in the damage he’d done.

 

He didn’t look long enough to see if the distraction had given them away, but he’d timed it well enough with an explosion, took the fleeting opportunity to leave the caves undetected, which was better than staying back there waiting to be found.

 

He didn’t look long enough to see if there were survivors, either, and he wasn’t planning on sitting around to find out.  At the very least, there were still no magic users, because he wouldn’t have missed that by a long shot.

 

(Even considering the possibility of shadow users, because shadow elementals were already so rare, and that specific cloaking technique even rarer, he highly doubted that’d be the case; however, it also put more weight on Itachi’s suspicions about this group possibly being tied to Root.

 

He’s still debating whether to tell Sasuke, if it would even make a difference.)

 

He did look for footprints in the sand, though, against all odds hoping he could at least see which direction the mercenaries came from, either from the ship or the prison.  but any traces left behind were gone by then.

 

At the time, he could’ve asked Sasuke if he sensed anyone, but Sasuke was already doing enough providing them cover, and it wasn’t worth it, to have Sasuke stretch himself even thinner, so Naruto just had to make do with his own instincts.

 

Sasuke’s too sensitive right now, too much like he hasn’t been in a while, like he used to be in a state that once before was all too common, before he was comfortable enough trusting in his own shields around other people.

 

It’s easy to forget sometimes, just how powerful Sasuke’s empathy is, what Sasuke’s heightened sensitivity really means in this kind of context, since Sasuke’s mental shields have to be that good—and they really are _that good_ , because they’re his only line of defence against being left completely open to everything around him.

 

Yet for Sasuke to have such a lapse in his shields...

 

The main thing about Sasuke having that kind of episode, whenever he does reach this state, is that it’s easier for his mind to wander.  Unlike with his life magic, Sasuke’s a lot more impressionable under the pull of his empathy, easier to sway, in some ways even more exposed like this than during the worst of his empathetic attacks.

 

Unfortunately, it messes with his ability to sense life signatures, too; his empathy places emphasis on the emotions themselves, almost like temporarily writing over his ability to locate someone by their life force, which makes it ever harder for him to distinguish different emotions from an onslaught of pretty much everything coming towards him at once.

 

He’s still not quite back up to a three, definitely won’t be after exerting himself for so long, probably even closer to a one at this point.  It’s a wonder he’s even made it this far.  He’s held out for a lot longer than Naruto could’ve hoped for under the circumstances, even knowing how comfortable Sasuke is using shadow magic.

 

In his very humble opinion, Sasuke still looks like total shit walking, that much closer to keeling over any minute, still alarmingly pale beneath the rays of Barrah’s unreasonably hot sun, but he’s been keeping up with the pace Naruto set; admittedly, it’s not the fastest pace, but it’s steady enough to get them to the prison in a little more than two hours, way less time than it’d take them to get to the ship.

 

So far, so good.

 

There haven’t been any strong winds yet, and it doesn’t look like there’s going to be another storm.

 

They’re almost halfway there.  Barely.  Throughout their trek, though, Sasuke hasn’t once complained, hasn’t even asked to stop for a break—not that there’s actually anywhere to rest out here, but it’s that stubborn streak they both suffer from, the same one that’s been pushing Sasuke to move forward.

 

Really, he needs more than just a breather.  They both do.  But they have to keep going.

 

Against the occasional breeze, the continued silence between them Naruto hasn’t tried to fill.

 

With the backdrop of his own laboured breathing, Sasuke’s just been quiet, bearing with it for the sake of helping them get across the desert, despite the obvious toll it’s taking on him, Sasuke taking a little more time to recover from each near stumble, each time he doesn’t mean to lean more of his weight against Naruto.

 

But Sasuke’s magic hasn’t wavered, Sasuke’s gaze set straight ahead of them, Sasuke doing his best to uphold his barriers, trying to rein in the effects of his empathy—ultimately, his attention very much focused away from Naruto.

 

Which is fine.  Perfect, even.

 

That graze on Naruto’s side, the one that’s getting harder and harder to ignore, the less likely Sasuke is to notice it, the better.

 

On the other hand, it also goes to show just how much effort it takes for Sasuke to concentrate, in a state where he is so susceptible to his own empathy.  Otherwise, his mind’s going to be pulled every which way. 

 

_“What does it feel like, when that happens, when you...”_

_“...in some ways, it still feels like me, I guess.  But even then, even when I know they’re someone else’s emotions, when I can subconsciously tell them apart from my own, sometimes, I don’t...”_

_“Sasuke?”_

_“It’s still me, and yet it’s not.  Simultaneously, it’s feeling everything at once and yet nothing at all.  But sometimes, I don’t...I couldn’t always separate myself before.  I wasn’t always able to tell who I was, or even where I was anymore, not until Iyashi..._

_“When I had to go back to Reife, after my brother found me with...that’s why our parents thought it was better to keep us apart.  That’s why I was so...before I knew being around you still wouldn’t...”_

_“...yeah, I remember that.  Everyone kept telling me you were sick again.  And that was the first time I saw how bad it still got.  The day I...seeing you like that, I just...”_

_“It is what it is, Naruto.  But it was years ago.  I’m thirteen now.  I’m not like that anymore.”_

 

To feel emotions to that specific an extent, Sasuke’s always been able to do that, but it’s something he normally has control over.  How to navigate outside thoughts, Iyashi started teaching him that early on, and eventually Sasuke advanced to the point where he didn’t have to resort to blocking them completely, which was good, because it turned out to be an additional precaution he could use on his own, a way to protect himself against the worrying kinds of people wouldn’t have his best interests in mind.

 

What happened back at the caves, when Sasuke’s empathy took over, while a lot of it probably had to do with where he was—still is—on the scale, out of the five people Sasuke had sensed, it seemed highly likely one of them was probably projecting, anyway, plenty enough for Sasuke to be so noticeably affected for so much longer, relatively speaking.

 

There was something almost... _off_ about it, though, something that didn’t quite fit the usual pattern, and despite the fact Naruto couldn’t say exactly what it was, he was going to file it for later.

 

Based on what he’s seen during the times it’s happened in the past, when Sasuke’s mind wandered, Sasuke would end up all over the place, instantly taken by bits and pieces of this and that, gone here and there, drawn to whatever attracted his empathy in that one particular moment, however long it’d even last, whoever’s thoughts came to him the loudest, whichever emotions he’d latch on the fastest.

 

He never got to pick and choose.  Overwhelmed by his empathy, so many times he used to lose himself, because emotions have always been a fundamental part of Sasuke’s magic, no matter who they belonged to.

 

It’s not necessarily that Sasuke can read people’s thoughts.  Naruto wouldn’t go so far to say that.  It can definitely feel like that sometimes, though, those instances when Sasuke’s been seemingly able to express almost exactly what someone’s thinking , but the stronger someone’s emotions, the stronger the impression they tend to leave.  That’s how he’s able to pick up on another person’s intent, because it can be such a subconscious thing.

 

Like that run-in he had with that Yuriy kid.  Sasuke was already convinced Yuriy wouldn’t have done anything to harm him, and honestly, the kid was probably more liable to harm himself tripping over his own two feet, maybe, just maybe taking out a few innocent bystanders in the process, but clearly under Sasuke’s Influence, despite the loose grip Yuriy had on Sasuke’s arm, standing so close in Sasuke’s space, caught in some sort of daze the way he was so engrossed just _staring_ at him, the scene sure as hell didn’t look harmless to Naruto at the time.

 

The idea of Sasuke having the ability to read so deeply into other people’s emotions, an ability that’s more or less an extension of the default state of his empathy, even though it’s something Naruto knows Sasuke would never use against anyone intentionally, it’s a little unnerving all the same.  He’s already been on the receiving end more than a few times, back when Sasuke really couldn’t control it, and to see Sasuke like that again after so long, getting even just the smallest glimpse, it was almost like Sasuke was being possessed, because just like with his life magic, he gets that same sort of vacant stare, his voice absent, his body almost stilted going into a similar kind of trance, except his eyes don’t glow white.

 

(No matter how many times he’s seen it, watching Sasuke’s eyes do the freaky glow thing, it’s still creepy, made that much more disturbing by the fact he’s already seen too many times how close Sasuke’s magic come to taking Sasuke away.)

 

It was already unsettling when Sasuke unconsciously used his life magic yesterday, healed the soreness along his jaw from a punch he might’ve not, not deserved, but it was a different level of unsettling when Sasuke almost did again earlier, upgraded right up to nerve-racking because of the fact Sasuke actually hadn’t realised what he was doing at the time, even while already using his shadow magic, and right after he put them both under his cloaking technique.

 

More than a little breathless, Sasuke just looked at him sort of lost, strangely subdued, not even the slightest hint of understanding in his eyes, somehow completely unaware of what he’d nearly done.

 

Sasuke was already at a two before the bad guys even came into the picture, so the neuros Naruto accidently inhaled earlier, whatever gas that was, he doesn’t think Sasuke’s state had so much to do with that.  He doesn’t even want to imagine how much worse Sasuke would be if that gas actually did get to him, because there’s no telling what kind of effect even a light dose would have, just that it’d probably hit someone like him a lot sooner.

 

But he put up a defensive barrier before that could happen, with his magic creating a sort of filter to circulate the air, keeping away from them the gas gradually climbing higher, intermittently seeped through the various holes and cracks in the cave.

 

What he initially thought of as a graze, if it still is a graze—although it doesn’t feel that deep, never mind he never checked to see how deep it was—after inhaling the kind of thing that’s been knowingly used as a less deadly means to lay up magic users, that’s probably why the pain in his side is hurting him so much.

 

(These guys after them, he still can’t decide on their motive, still a tossup between capture and kill, as systematic as their approach seems to be, having both the means and the technology, but he can’t say they didn’t come prepared.)

 

He didn’t even know he’d inhaled anything at first.  With most types of neuros, of course when they do take the form of a gas, they’re usually odourless, colourless, rarely easy to detect by normal methods.  It was a possibility Itachi had already warned him about, anyway, but it wasn’t until he crouched near the outside of the cave, trying not to sneak too far away, ultimately an unsuccessful attempt to eavesdrop on any communications, that he was able to pick up on the subtle fluctuations in the air.

 

Having such a strong affinity to wind does make him more naturally aware of those kinds of changes in the atmosphere, and Kyuubi noticed the slight shift, too, although by then the damage had already been done.

 

He doesn’t know what was in that first batch, but while it didn’t mess with him in the moment, it must be what’s been messing with him since.  Not that he heals almost instantaneously, at least for the more serious injuries, nothing close to what Sasuke can do, but even without Kyuubi, he already has a well beyond average amount of reserves for both his life energy and magical energy, a trait that runs strong on his mom’s side of the family, which gives him a clear-cut advantage, when it comes to his body’s recovery time.

 

More than that, though, to seriously delay the effects of even Kyuubi’s magic that usually helps speed up the process, that gas had to be a pretty strong type of inhibitor to affect him like this, and especially to continue affecting him so long after the fact.  That’s the only explanation he can offer.

 

The pain definitely crept up on him, though.  Whether he was distracted from being hyped up on adrenaline or what, it’s only now that he’s started paying attention to it.

 

This whole time, he’s been waiting for his healing to kick in.  Kyuubi still can’t explain why his own magic isn’t working, either, which’s only served to wound him up even more.

 

He’s been edgy from the start, but when things started to take a turn for the worse, that very conversation Itachi said an unmarked ship had landed on Barrah, a ship unmarked because someone had evidently removed its STAR-ID, Kyuubi’s mood has been going downhill real fast.

 

Going back to when Naruto was a stakeout on the ledge, back to when Naruto first woke from his disappointingly short nap, Kyuubi’s been on full alert—much more awake in Naruto’s mind, much more aware of Sasuke’s presence, the way he especially gets whenever Sasuke’s life magic is involved, the way he’s been since they arrived on Barrah, a growing sense of agitation matched by Naruto’s own increasing restlessness.

 

While he understands where Kyuubi’s coming from, since Kyuubi’s only exemplifying what they’re both already feeling, more and more it’s moving towards a level of aggression he hasn’t felt from Kyuubi since the day they first met, before they grew to know each other, when Kyuubi was just a strange part of his imagination, this massive, impressive creature with even stranger thoughts about going on a rampage destroying all humans in his path—an aggression that gradually began to quieten after Naruto offered to be Kyuubi’s friend.

 

That Kyuubi no longer has the somewhat murderous desire to lash out at every person within reach, it’s definitely progress, because it shows how far he really has come; he’s no longer a victim of his own mindless hatred, a lot less prickly about being sealed in a mortal body, and the way Naruto feels about him, he already knows Kyuubi feels the same.

 

But Kyuubi’s overall impression of people hasn’t changed that much.  He’s still highly sceptical in general (maybe rightfully cynical, Sasuke would say), not counting the exceptions he’s made where Naruto’s concerned, so now, with an imminent threat out there, it didn’t surprise Naruto, to hear Kyuubi’s occasional rumblings about being ready to kill on sight anyone who would dare threaten one of his own, squeezing in time to casually berate Naruto for thinking he would behave any differently if harm were actually to befall Sachi.

 

Naruto wants to think he’s better than that.  He wants to think he’s grown past falling back on his baser instincts as an immediate response whenever something bad happens involving Sasuke.

 

He really does, but...

 

Any other time, he could’ve easily chalked it up to Kyuubi having one of his moments, Kyuubi just being _Kyuubi_ , because he’s gotten used to Kyuubi’s particularly violent brand of concern.  This time, however, he can’t afford to ignore Kyuubi’s state of mind, not while everything’s going in the direction of FUBAR.

 

Honestly, Kyuubi is leaning a little closer towards bloodthirsty.  He hasn’t demanded to be let out, not yet, but it’s an understatement to say he isn’t happy about the situation; he hasn’t stopped his sporadic pacing since they left the caves, in his usual roundabout way, still attentive to both Sasuke’s life magic and empathy, borderline obsessive, as obvious as Naruto’s been trying not to be, stealing glances at Sasuke from time to time.

 

Between an increased sensitivity to Sasuke and an inability to help Naruto heal, Kyuubi’s had nothing but time to go stir-crazy, even going as far as “advising” Naruto allow him to release his aggression on the handful of dunemites they’ve passed along the way, with each one, each time Kyuubi more sorely tempted to act on a series of not so pleasant imagery.

 

(Of course, the dunemites hadn’t noticed them.  In some instances, he and Sasuke were almost close enough to being within striking distance, but they walked right by them, even those two really big ones that looked like they were building a nest deep into the ground.

 

As many times as he’s been pulled under Sasuke’s shadow technique, even with magic being so commonplace, with so many once seemingly impossible things that are just considered normal, it never fails to amaze him, because it really is something else to see the world around them like this.)

 

They’re almost there, though.  Beyond a pair of rippled dunes, past another stretch of white sand, Naruto can already see the large crag up ahead, further down towards the shallow valley, towards the salt pan randomly broken up by scattered signs of plant life.

 

 It’s not too far off, at their pace another twenty minutes or so, before they reach the rickety outcrop concealing the small opening to a long and narrow passageway, one of the two hidden entrances leading to the prison.

 

Carefully, they make their way inside.  Naruto’s eyelids flutter, as his pupils adjust to the lack of light, surrounding him greys further darkened with hues of blue, almost black.  He doesn’t pull out his flashlight this time, doesn’t need to, despite his dimmed sight, because the coarse walls enclosing them set a straight path towards the door.

 

Beneath them, the ground already uneven gradually starts to slope down, closer to the door starts to smooth out.

 

He didn’t think he was going to be back in this hellhole any time soon, or at all, really, and yet here they are.

 

Again.

 

And yet it’s also here where Naruto pauses, in front of the heavy door that doesn’t open electronically, unlike the other doors throughout the prison.

 

Eyes narrowed, he gives Sasuke a hard stare.  He still won’t ask if Sasuke’s okay because he knows Sasuke’s not—neither of them are, but Sasuke stays quiet, too, doesn’t return the gaze, doesn’t look away from the door, doesn’t say anything about Naruto choosing now of all times to stop, when they’re practically already there.

 

Breathing in, Naruto faces the door, breathes out.  He tightens his arm supporting Sasuke by the waist, lets Sasuke’s arm not loose around his shoulders bring him closer.  With his free hand, his left hand, slowly, he moves to push on the door, trying not to put any more strain on his side, jaw clenched, turning his head to hide the wince he couldn’t hold back.

 

The door opens with a groan entirely too loud, a prolonged creak piercing, almost deafening against the near quiet of the cramped passageway all but closed off from the outside.

 

Entering the main hall, they step onto a stone floor, hit with a rush of cool air, as they pass through the threshold, but it’s not much of a relief.

 

He shifts a little awkwardly, as the door begins to fall closed, trying to keep it from shutting with too much noise, slowing it down with one hand, yet ultimately unable to prevent another shrill screech.

 

The sound echoes down the large corridor, bouncing off walls dimly lit by discreetly placed lights through his vision tinged almost blue.

 

 

They press forward, further into the maze of cells of he’s been through too many times for comfort, closer still towards the storeroom that’s roughly the hub of the prison.  They’re always the hidden lab, too, maybe, if they can even manage to find it again; the doorway had been sealed off, disappeared beneath that segment of wall, as soon as they were back on the other side, although that’s strictly as a last reso—

 

There’s a soft gasp from his right, as all around him greys and whites begin to leak, replaced by a gush of colour streamed into his sight.

 

A shiver runs through him at the release of Sasuke’s cloaking technique, as Sasuke’s legs give way beneath him, Naruto already bending down, reaching out to catch him.

 

Gathering Sasuke in his arms, he stands them both up, gives another involuntary shudder, from the remnants of Sasuke’s shadow magic, trying to shake off a residual chill.

 

Carrying Sasuke is out of the question.  He could probably still manage if he absolutely had to, since Sasuke’s not all that heavy, but even if his side wasn’t a serious issue, with everything that’s happened in the past two days alone, everything he’s had to deal with on his own, really, he’s just _tired_.

 

Instead, he settles with sort of half-dragging Sasuke to the nearest cell.  Before them, the opaque door slides open, revealing one of the larger cells, a lot more roomy than that tiny little space Juugo had called home, as homely as Juugo really did try to make it.

 

He grunts, heading towards the near-left corner.  It’s the farthest he can get away from the pale green light overhead, coming from inside the ceiling, not centred, placed closer to the other side of the cell—it’s the best he can do to take them outside the immediate view of anyone who might come through the door.

 

Sure enough, that’s when his remaining adrenaline decides to wear off, and the stress on his body finally catches up with him.  As soon as he crosses the length of the cell, he finds himself sagging against the cold wall, letting his knees bend, taking Sasuke along with him, the once acute pain flaring, shot up and down his entire left side, spreading out to the rest of his torso.

 

But he keeps his composure, save for a short series of haggard breaths, holds it together.

 

Fortunately, Sasuke doesn’t seem to think much of it, as exhausted as he is, probably just thinking Naruto’s exhausted, too.  He simply sighs, rests his face over Naruto’s right shoulder.  As he relaxes against him, slower become his breaths, soft against Naruto’s neck, Sasuke responding to Naruto’s own fatigue with a wave of warmth Naruto readily sinks into.

 

Using his empathy like that, Sasuke’s probably not doing it on purpose, the same thing that’s happened already too many times since being here, so Naruto doesn’t try to make another case about why Sasuke shouldn’t be doing it.  He’s not in a position where he should refuse Sasuke’s help, anyway, even something as simple as this; that’s part of what Itachi was implying before, since normally it’s been the other way around, and Naruto can admit it’s still sometimes hard for him to accept, to give up this image of Sasuke he’s held for the longest time, a Sasuke who’s known him as someone safe he could always turn to.

 

Yet it’s not that he minds relying on Sasuke.  Sasuke’s already seen him at some pretty vulnerable points in his life.  He just wishes it wasn’t under these circumstances.

 

Because for a moment he can almost imagine they’re back at home, back on base, at Sasuke and Itachi’s place, laid up against each on the small sofa like they were a few weeks ago, a curious Sasuke every once in a while reading over Naruto’s shoulder, nearly cheek to cheek, as Naruto tried to make headway with the unreasonably thick compilation of different flight and field manuals for trainees conditionally accepted into the STFI programme—just hanging out, studying together, despite his more demanding schedule, Naruto making use of his free time to spend it with Sasuke, since trainees can’t have guests over in the dorm buildings, even if Sasuke would’ve been allowed to go.

 

He gives a quick tap to his comm, to see if he can reach Itachi, or at least pick up on another signal, but their frequencies are still being jammed.

 

At least they made it here in one piece, that’s what he wants to think, but then he doesn’t want to jinx it.  It feels like he’s pushed enough of their luck as it is.

 

“...what now?”

 

“Hang out here for a few more minutes,” Naruto says, “then get up, keep going until we reach the other side.  Pray there’s not a welcome party waiting for us there.  And if there is, well...”

 

Not that they have much in the way of options, of course, but deciding on this detour, not wanting to engage, trying to remain unseen, trying to avoid having anyone tailing them on their way to the ship, those are good enough reasons—more than good enough.

 

“That’s the best you can come up with.”

 

“It’s called FISHDO, Sasuke.”  Naruto manages to crack some semblance of a grin, although it still feels too forced.  “FISHDO.”

 

Sasuke gives a soft snort, with the slight shake of his shoulders, turning his head to peer up at Naruto, indulging him with the tiniest little smile, but the mood doesn’t last, with Sasuke moving, unknowingly jostling Naruto’s left side.

 

Despite how slight, the movement forces a sharp wheeze from Naruto, and Sasuke stills, lifting his head from Naruto’s shoulder, when Naruto curses underneath his breath, unable to keep down a pained hiss.

 

Quickly, Sasuke shifts back, on his knees sat in front of Naruto, gaze lowered, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, already staring too hard at Naruto’s left side.  “Naruto, what—”

 

“Nothing.”  Too late Naruto lays a hand over his side, beneath his jacket, a pointless attempt to cover up what Sasuke’s already seen.  “I just got caught by a rock.  It’s nothing.”

 

“Why didn’t I...”  In Sasuke’s eyes grows a subtle alarm.  “I should’ve—”

 

“No, there’s nothing you should’ve done.  It’s just a scratch.  That’s all it is.”

 

“...you’re hurt.”  The words come out soft, strangely light, lingering in Sasuke’s voice this very off-putting sort of quiet wonder.  “Naruto, you’re—”

 

“Don’t do that—don’t waste your magic on me, Sasuke.  I’m fine.”

 

Unsurprisingly, Sasuke isn’t listening, but not intentionally, as his hand moves towards Naruto’s side, his eyes slightly glazed over, not yet turned white.  “But you’re hurt.  You’re not—”

 

“ _Don’t,_ ” Naruto hisses, harsher than he intended, but alone it’s enough to snap Sasuke out of the near trance.

 

Shaking his head, Sasuke closes his eyes, after a moment or two, slowly opening them again with a shuddering sigh, blinking once, twice, before returning his gaze to Naruto.  “You’re always such a—”

 

Lips pursed, he stares at Naruto, searching, challenging, face eerily pale highlighted by a faint, green glow.

 

Breathing slowly, carefully, Naruto removes his right hand from his side.  He turns over his palm over, trying to catch it beneath the thin offering of light.  He can’t see that well, but there is blood.  Not a lot, though.  Just enough to soak through his shirt, leave a little wetness on the inside of his jacket.

 

“...Naruto, you idiot,” Sasuke whispers.  “...you stupid, stupid _idiot_.”

 

It’s actually not as bad as it looks, and that’s what he tells Sasuke, keeping to himself how much it hurts, alongside not being able to discount the possibility of internal bleeding, because Sasuke seems more focused on the fact he hadn’t known about it; he probably already put two and two together, probably guessed that maybe Kyuubi had something to do with it, too, since it does look like the kind of surface wound Naruto normally wouldn’t have a problem healing from.

 

(Although Naruto’s been starting to wonder about Kyuubi’s involvement, too, because the relationship Kyuubi has with him is a lot different from whatever dynamic goes on between Kyuubi and Sasuke, especially when it feels like Kyuubi’s a lot more aware of those differences than Sasuke.)

 

Sasuke looks down, hiding his gaze, hair fallen over his face.  He makes a reach for Naruto’s arm, fingers clutched around Naruto’s jacket sleeve, but Naruto doesn’t say anything because Sasuke’s already letting go.

 

 “Why can’t you just let me...”

 

But he already knows why.  Naruto doesn’t have to tell him.

 

He sees it, how ready Sasuke is to defy him, how much Sasuke wants to go against him, the way Sasuke instead struggles with himself, going against an instinctive urge that so readily compels him to do everything in his power to make sure Naruto no longer _hurts_.

 

It’s definitely not the worst pain Naruto’s ever been in.  He just doesn’t know why it still hurts so much.  Even accounting for the neuros, and not knowing what type it was, for the effects to seemingly persist for such a long time, causing his healing to slow to this kind of extent, that’s what’s really been tripping him up.

 

He’s just tired.

 

He’s so _tired_.

 

But he has to keep pushing.  He has to keep them moving, keep them going.

 

They’re not safe yet.  They won’t be until they’re off Barrah.  Not until they’ve made it to the station on Gaol, and he can make contact with—

 

His ears twitch at a faint noise.

 

He almost didn’t hear it, so slight the distant sound of footfalls, not so many, sets of maybe four or three, but definitely coming their way, coming from the opposite direction, from the other entrance to the prison, which means these guys probably aren’t the ones they left behind back at the caves.

 

Could mean a lot of other things, too, but the question is, does it also mean they already know he and Sasuke are here?

 

Because this is the part he’s been trying to avoid, what he already knew had to be coming.  No way was it going to be that easy.  That bad feeling he’s had from the start, if he could sum it all up in one instance, this would be it.  He just didn’t think they’d catch up so quick.  Better than being caught out in the middle of the desert, without a doubt better than leading them right to the ship, but he at least thought they’d have more time.

 

Okay.

 

So, effectively, at this point they’re cornered, all but trapped in a prison maze, with no immediate escape route without possibly having to engage, and Sasuke pretty much running on empty.

 

They could wait it out, probably would’ve had a better chance of making an escape, if Sasuke hadn’t pushed passed his limits, although they probably wouldn’t have even been put in such a tight spot in the first place, if Sasuke had just listened the nth time Naruto told him not to use his magic—but that’s neither here nor there.

 

Either they try to make a break for the storeroom, reach it by going the long way round, on the other side of the entrance they used, or they take their chances hiding here.

 

Shit doesn’t even begin to cover it, but _shit_.

 

_Triple shit._

 

And because he just can’t stress the sentiment enough— _shit_.

 

This day just keeps getting better and better.

 

But all he can think, is that maybe he did drop the ball on this one, maybe he should’ve never left the ship, maybe he should’ve watched Sasuke more closely, maybe he...

 

He could still fix it.  He’s going to fix it.  He’s going to make sure they get out of this, because that’s what Itachi’s expecting him to—that’s what he promised Sasuke he was going to do.

 

FISHDO, right.

 

He can...

 

A breath forced through clenched teeth, he forces his body to sit up, with a grimace reaching with his right arm to bring Sasuke back beside him, closer towards the corner, while he shifts forward, positioning himself between Sasuke and the door.

 

Turned a little towards Sasuke, he raises his left arm, elbow bent down, hand held level with his head, fingers curled into a fist he holds for two counts; he then lowers his hand, with two fingers taps four times on his right wrist; raising his arm again, he extends his fingers, elbow bent to the side, slightly curved his hand held above his brow for another two counts, before lowering his arm.

 

Sasuke confirms with a small nod.  Still pressed close to Naruto’s right side, he shifts a little, bracing himself with a hand placed against the corner, and Naruto watches, cautious, as Sasuke touches the wall.

 

Behind him, he can feel Sasuke’s whole body tense, near his ear the beginnings of an absent murmur he strains to hear.

 

“...they’re here.  They were here.  They came here.  It’s this way.  They’re this way.  It’s one of us.  One of them.  Only one of—”

 

Naruto quickly shushes him, pushing down his own rising panic, pulling away Sasuke’s hand from the wall.  Holding Sasuke’s chin, he turns Sasuke’s head to face him, watching dark eyes flickering white.

 

Softly, he whispers, “Focus on me.”

 

Immediately, Sasuke seems to calm.

 

“Keep focusing on me, all right.”

 

Making a face, Sasuke blinks, then swallows, lips slightly parted, breathing out softly, not breaking away from Naruto’s gaze, when Naruto lets his hand fall away.

 

The footfalls start to grow louder, in his ears ringing, the sound of his heart pounding, on and on keep going, louder and louder keep growing, coming towards them closer, slower, steps softer, slowed to a halt, stopped beyond the edge of the opaque door, leaving the edges of shadows crawled along the wall, crawled from down the corridor.

 

Naruto doesn’t move.

 

He waits.

 

And he waits.

 

Absently, he remembers that one music class he took as a kid, remembers the steady tick of the metronome the teacher used, when they were learning about different time signatures, all the different counts that came with learning how to read music—remembers how annoying he thought it was at the time, because it was hard for him to keep up, difficult to put his mind to something he’d probably never even think of again.

 

Until now.

 

It’s still quiet.

 

It’s too quiet, almost unbearably quiet.

 

From outside the cell comes a low rustling noise, a muffled blend of sound, the muted stretch of fabric, the familiar clack of metal against a softer surface.

 

Rifles, he thinks, like Itachi told him, probably not set to stun.

 

There’s a soft thud, as something hard hits the floor rolling, some kind of metal ball, maybe only a few metres away, a heavy rumble with intermittent clicks, rolling along towards them steady but surely, beginning to slow once it appears outside the opaque door.

 

He can vaguely make out the outline of something small, spherical in shape, roughly twice the size of his palm.  It almost rolls past them, looks like it’s going to at least reach the other side of the door’s frame, but then it stops right in the middle, maybe just a few centimetres, give or take, off-centre.

 

Sasuke grabs Naruto’s right arm, lightly squeezing, silently asking about the source of the sound.

 

Eyes still on the door, Naruto opens his left palm, fingers slightly curled, placing it over the lower half of his face, mimicking a gas mask.

 

That small metal ball, most likely, it’s a probe.  It’s actually a neat little thing, real expensive, sophisticated technology, considered a more advanced type of location sensor, but what’s really a bunch of different radar technologies all bundled into one convenient little package.  It’s reliably accurate, too, despite not having much range, but it scans for everything, the whole shebang. 

 

Just as likely, the kind he’s thinking of, it doubles as a dampener, too, a glorified smoke bomb, used to rout out targets—the very same kind of weapon preferred by the AAF during raid operations, or any sort of hostile missions, which he knows, because it’s all laid out over various military manuals.

 

If he uses his magic now, he’ll reveal their location.  But then maybe it doesn’t matter.  Using probes, those guys probably already know where they are.

 

He decides to chance it. 

 

And when Sasuke gives his arm another light squeeze, Naruto raises his left finger, holding it next to his left cheek, as he mouths to Sasuke, “Close your eyes, and hold your breath.”

 

The fingers around Naruto’s arm tighten, don’t turn loose, don’t let go, as Sasuke nods, breathes in slowly, closing his eyes.

 

The way these kinds of probes are set off, the basic mechanics are similar to a fission bomb, and it’s not too much longer before there’s a sharp hiss, an implosion of air quickly sucked in from near the top of the probe, already crushing the outside of it, pressure brought to an equilibrium with a loud bang.

 

Within seconds, smoke floods the corridor, with the heavy clamber of boots, with the opening of the door, floods around them, as all hell breaks loose.

 

These guys, these mercenaries, whoever they are, they storm the cell, immediately heading straight for them—through their brief communication, he can hear three distinct voices, all male, but it happens so fast, giving him so little time to react, his eyes already shut still watering, burning, Kyuubi snarling, seething in the back of his mind ( _releasemenowreleaseme_ ), a ripple of raw magic resonating with his own, when Sasuke starts to cough, slumps against him, no longer holding Naruto’s—

 

The butt of a riffle hits hard at his back, along his left side, rips a loud cry deep from within his throat, his eyes growing wide, as he breathes in smoke, by the force of the impact thrown to the floor, still gasping, coughing, as hands shove him further aside, further shove him away, more hands that reach over him, reach over to Sasuke, and he pushes himself up on shaky hands, pushes off from the floor, but when he reaches out beside him, he reaches out too late, because Sasuke’s already—

 

“Sasuke!”


	12. Dirty Harry XI: Kids With Guns (Hot Chip Remix)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for non-consensual touching (more so in regards to Sasuke's empathy), non-consensual drug use, violence, implied gore, disturbing imagery, as well as derogatory language, and a fictional pejorative term.
> 
> Also, even more gratuitous cursing further perpetuating stereotypes.
> 
> I have a lot of things I don't know how to say about this chapter, so please bear with me. So, I'm just going to leave it here for now, because regrets will surely be had for this mess.

Against the billowing plumes of smoke, he keeps his eyes closed, through thin gasps tries not to breathe, as the corners of his eyes begin to sting, as he starts to cough, as he reaches out for Naruto suddenly no longer close beside him, Naruto shoved away from him, because alone in the corner, encased in darkness, separated by a mere moment between them, all he can hear is Naruto _scream_.

 

There’s a harsh tugging at his clothes, from underneath his arms, large hands that grab him, without care, without pause, nearly bruising, through Itachi’s jacket, through Sasuke’s skin, gripping at his sides, fingers pervasive touches, continued brushes that spread over his body, edge into his senses, seemingly from all around him, differed, an array of foreign sensations he can’t discern, piled upon him, chasing him too many, thoughts muddled impressions derived from actual touch, tearing at his consciousness the smallest physical sensations, despite the layers of material covering his skin.

 

He feels himself being moved, his body listless, too easily lifted by hands that carry him seated from the floor, haul him to his feet.

 

An arm snakes around him, confines him, his back pressed into a solid weight, held against a firm chest, as another arm settles above his shoulders, below his neck.

 

Arms forced to his sides, he bends his elbows, blindly reaching with both hands, fingers ineffective clasped around the sturdy arm that has him in a near chokehold, struggling to pry it away from him, all but dangling from the hold, trying to plant his feet with legs that waver, flail useless beneath him.

 

A howl cuts through the air, cuts through the fog in his mind, marks discordant a torrent of winds, looming inside the cell a growing clash of low vibrations and shrill sounds, frenzied gusts that belt sharply against the walls, make them quake, whip against his face, bolstering Naruto’s magic, the manifestation of a more visceral power that resonates within Sasuke’s very core.

 

The figure behind him reels at the sudden upheaval, with a grunt staggers for seconds too few, around him tightens their grip, when the winds begin to wane, air carried away from the cell, as the smoke begins to clear, reveals Naruto bending from his knees, slightly hunched forward, arms hanging loose at his sides, breaths heaved, slowly rising to his feet, beneath the pale green light, standing in front of the open door.

 

“...I won’t let you take him.”

 

Sasuke swallows, breathes in too sharp, as he tries to blink away the lingering burn, remnants of smoke prickling at the corners of his eyes, trying to focus on Naruto, trying to ground himself, trying to suppress his empathy.

 

There are three, he realises, including the one behind him, the unfriendlies after them—mercenaries, he remembers Naruto mentioning before—and what he can presume from seeing two of their profiles, all of them outfitted in black gear, their figures broad and tall, their hands gloved, over their heads hoods worn loose, and over their faces masks that seem to conceal their features, leaving no skin exposed, each of them still, stood almost like shadows, almost blending into the dimly-lit cell.

 

The two standing faced away from him, nearly standing on opposite ends of the cell, between them, the one closest to Naruto begins to laugh, the sound decidedly male, a low chuckle conveying a dark amusement, as he allows his posture to ease a little, shoulders somewhat relaxed.

 

However, he’s not so unguarded as to leave any openings for an attack, hand still around the grip of the rifle hanging from the thick, black strap draped across his shoulders, casually flexing his finger still close to the trigger.

 

His voice travels only slightly muffled through the mask, slightly distorted, but still clear enough for Sasuke to hear, a deep baritone that addresses Naruto.

 

“You hear this kid?” he says, mocks with the same dark amusement, tinged with a feigned disbelief, glancing towards the mercenary on the other side of the cell, relaying a laughter short-lived, as if Naruto were the punchline to some inside joke.  “You hear the _fucking balls_ on this kid?”

 

Naruto straightens his shoulders.  He steps out to the left, widens the distance between his feet a little, favouring his weight on his right side.

 

Lifting the heel of his boot, with the toe, he makes small twisting motions scuffing the upper part of the sole digging into the floor, before he lowers his foot, taking up a more defensive stance.

 

The second mercenary has both hands on his rifle hanging in front of him, already pointed towards Naruto, as Sasuke feels himself being lifted higher, being pulled closer to the mercenary who grabbed him, barely able to stand, the balls of his feet only just touching the floor.

 

The mercenary who spoke, however, his careless arrogance, the way he carries himself, notably the way the second mercenary seemed to defer to him—Red One, Sasuke decides—he raises his arm, signalling for the other two not to move.

 

Shrugging off Sasuke’s feeble grip, the arm above Sasuke’s shoulders shifts, a palm instead laid over his throat, a hand that fits easily around his neck, as he strains to see Naruto, fingers pressing up from beneath his chin, forcing back his head.

 

For a moment, he’s able to catch Naruto’s gaze, catches a glimpse of red that just as soon reverts to blue, Naruto’s stare hardened, glaring above Sasuke, to the mercenary behind him, before his glare falls back on the leader, mouth curling into a snarl, but he doesn’t move to attack, won’t make the first move, Sasuke already knows, while he’s being used as leverage, because Naruto won’t risk it, even for his own sake, won’t risk something happening to him.

 

Yet at Naruto’s feet, around him, familiar wisps of air begin to coil, risen slowly, staid from above the floor, as his magic responds to him—Kyuubi’s magic responding to him, by the strength of Naruto’s determination alone, sheer will the only force keeping Kyuubi contained.

 

“...I’m not telling you again.”

 

Unfazed by the display, heedless of Naruto’s warning, Red One sneers, “Pretty mouthy for a fucking _bolo_.”

 

Already Sasuke can’t seem to speak, from the arms around him can’t seem to break free, unravelled in his mind, solitary threads of a patchwork he holds onto, trying to at least sustain the current state of his shields, but the words make him flinch—through his empathy, a physical reaction, tugs at his mind, a slight jolt caused by not just the words themselves, but _that word_ , even without his empathy, the palpable sentiment behind it, a vehement _hatred_ , housed within a near archaic slur, so much revulsion alone encompassed in that single word.

 

It’s a word he’d think most magic users would know.  It’s a word he’s been taught, a word with an extensive history he’s read about, although it’s a still word he’s never heard directed towards him, or anyone he knows personally (surprisingly, or maybe not, growing up as he did, as privileged as he is, as protective as Itachi and his parents have been).

 

The significance of it, derogatory in every sense of the word, it’s one of the most demeaning terms a magic user can be called, debasing them as less than human, a slur founded and perpetuated by a then pervading prejudice along the same vein as the view held of the tailed beasts, comparing magic users to demons, portraying them, people like him, as wretched _things_ without souls.

 

However, even then, it’s a slur that’s fallen out of common use, at least to his knowledge, probably not even commonly known to those outside the magic user community, much more prevalent centuries ago, around the time of the Great Wars, before sectors were established as they’re known now, during the heyday of military factions, when most influential groups seemed more willing to turn the other cheek at the ongoing genocide of magic users.

 

But if these guys are just mercenaries, non-magic users at that, apparently sent to find Naruto and him, and probably Itachi, too, regardless of who they’re working for, that doesn’t explain how...

 

If the slur affected Naruto, there aren’t any signs to show for it, and yet Sasuke absently wonders, somewhat morbidly, how many times Naruto’s heard it before, because with all the times Naruto’s been off base, during those training missions on the outskirts of Alliance territory, it’s not too farfetched to think Naruto must’ve heard that word at least once, but it’s a thought that quickly fades, quickly replaced the voice of Red One.

 

“But sure.  Why not?” he says, in a much more mellowed tone, prior vitriol seemingly only a transitory note, transformed into a sadistic sort of almost glee at the prospect of fighting Naruto.

 

“It’s been a while since I got to have a little fun.”  He tilts his head towards one side, then the other.  One at a time, he rolls his shoulders back, jostling his rifle, finger no longer near the trigger, but a hand still holding the grip.

 

“Especially with one of you bolos.”

 

And then he’s charging towards Naruto.

 

Without warning, with long strides, Red One takes up the few steps between them, weaponising the butt of his rifle—first striking Naruto’s right shoulder, and then striking Naruto’s lower left side.

 

Naruto goes down with a sharp cry, falls so easily to the floor, falls to an attack he should’ve seen, yet didn’t even try to defend himself against, and it brings to light what all this time Sasuke’s been trying to ignore, trying to avoid, what he doesn’t want to acknowledge as _fear_ —an abject fear for _Naruto_ , this already burgeoning dread from nearly losing Naruto once merely days before, freezes him in the mercenary’s hold, the stark reality that he and Naruto _are_ alone, without Itachi, without any given number of people who normally are around them, but even with the injury on his side, Naruto said it wasn’t...

 

Naruto said he...

 

Behind Sasuke, Red Three remains quiet, his grip firm, remains still.

 

In front of him, Red Two scoffs.  “This is just a waste of time.  Pathetic.”

 

With the slow clack of his boots, Red One draws closer to Naruto, takes his time to circle him.  He pauses, lowers his head, peering down at Naruto’s face scrunched in pain.  

 

“A mouthy shit like you,” he says, “you just going to take that, punk?” 

 

Curled in on himself, curled trying to protect his left side, Naruto answers with a series of heavy coughs.

 

Red Two steps forward, before Sasuke even blinks, approaches Naruto, aiming his rifle towards Naruto’s head, barrel pointed down, muzzle already rested against the back of Naruto’s skull.

 

Calmly, Red One gives a small shake of his head.  He makes a short signal with his hand, a quick motion that has Red Two immediately standing down, has him stepping away, removing his finger from the trigger.

 

It’s over before Sasuke has a chance to truly process it, over in a matter of seconds, when he realises how close he once more came to losing Naruto, while he was just standing here, just waiting, the air faltered in his lungs, but he couldn’t even...

 

“Go ahead,” Red One goads.  “A kid with your _fucking balls_ , you think you can take me?  You think you got something to prove?  Go on, then.  Show me.”

 

But Naruto just lies there, still curled up on his side.  His body shudders with another round of coughing, between already laboured breaths, the sound unnervingly raw, too worn, hoarse, drawn from the back of his throat.  “...shut up.”

 

Red One gives a low chuckle.  “See,” he says, insincere in his attempt to appear gracious, raising his head with an excessive wave of his arm, gesturing to the cell at large.  “This is what happens when you try to be nice to one of these soulless bastards.  Nice just doesn’t cut it, you know.

 

“Here’s me,” he says, placing a hand over his chest, “being the generous guy I am.

 

“And then there’s you,” he continues, lowering his arm, fingers directed towards Naruto with a slight shooing motion, “not even worth the _shit_ off the bottom of my shoe, throwing all that generosity back in my face.

 

“I don’t understand this.  I don’t...”  He looks to Red Two, exaggerating an already feigned confusion with the prolonged shrug of his shoulders.  “Do you understand this?”

 

“What’s there to understand?” Red Two says, apathetic, adjusting the wide strap draped around his shoulders.  “He’s one of them.  Can’t expect to be reasonable with unreasonable shit like that.”

 

“Oh, is that what it is?  Is that what I’ve been missing?  Bolos don’t know how to be reasonable.  Well, then...”  Slowly, Red One lifts his foot.  “Here,” he offers Naruto, “let me help you out.”

 

Hard, he stomps on Naruto’s arm, the arm covering Naruto’s left side, kicking it away before twisting the heel of his boot, digging into Naruto’s injury, and Naruto _screams_.

 

Sasuke bucks, makes another reach for both arms around him, _tries and tries_ to push up from the balls of his feet, standing on the tips of his toes, from over Red One’s shoulder, tries to see Naruto, but the hold around him tightens further, dizzies him, the hand constricting his throat, makes him flinch, grazed near his ear, the feel of breathing too close.

 

With a low moan, Naruto shifts, begins to turn over onto his stomach.

 

“Oh.  Suddenly, you don’t have anything else to say?”  Stood above Naruto, Red One looks down, in quick succession makes these little tsk sounds, as though he were disappointed, yet his voice clearly underlined with contempt.  “Is that all—that’s supposed to be it?  I’m supposed be scared of a weak-ass punk like you?

 

“Stand up,” he demands, even as Naruto’s pushing up from his hands, wheezing, slowly extending his arms, slowly rising, trying to steadying himself on his knees, before his body jerks back from the impact of a boot against his side.

 

“Stand up!” Red One yells.  “You ungrateful piece of shit,” he seethes, punctuates with another kick that throws Naruto against the frame of the open door, almost throwing him into the corridor.  “Get up!

 

“ _Get the fuck up!_ ”

 

Again, Naruto is kicked, again and again, as a boot rams into his side, kicking him hard against the wall.

 

But then Red One steps back, almost forcing himself away, panting harsh, arms all but shaking at his sides.  However, like earlier, the falter in control is comparatively brief, a demonstrated fury too quickly displaced by the image of composure.

 

Relaxing his shoulders, he clears his throat, loosens his stance.  Deeply, he breathes in, affecting a near immediate calm that belies his prior vitriol.

 

And yet Naruto, he...

 

Naruto still, _still_ tries to get up.

 

Held back, Sasuke watches helpless, stares breathless, as Naruto’s entire body trembles, as Naruto’s fingers again begin to curl into his palms, knuckles white, through haggard breaths, swallowing down large gulps of air, Naruto weakly pushing himself up from the floor.

 

“Fucking runt won’t quit,” Red Two says, shifting his weight on both feet, annoyance colouring his voice that borders on grudgingly impressed.  “How much longer is this one going to take?”

 

 “Depends,” Red One says, then snorts.  “Why?  You have somewhere more important to be?”

 

“Tch.”

 

Beneath Naruto, his elbows buckle, and he stumbles, sways from the open door, but he catches himself before he falls, both palms on the floor, fingers spread, already moving to sit up from his knees, while Red One watches, allows him this time to stand, as Naruto staggers upright, agonisingly slow, yet not to his full height, holds his head high, despite the forward slump of his shoulders.

 

“The hell I’m letting Sasuke go anywhere with you.”

 

“...tell me something, kid,” Red One murmurs, almost blasé, casually adjusting the hold on his riffle, finger poised near the trigger.  “You feel lucky?”

 

Naruto scowls, fingers furled, uncurled, and then clenched, settling into fists. 

 

Except that guy, that mercenary, if Naruto weren’t hurt, if they were truly on even terms, Red One wouldn’t have stood a chance against Naruto, and maybe he already knows it, maybe that’s why he’s exploiting the situation for what it is, why he’s been so effusive, because he doesn’t want to fight Naruto.  He never wanted to fight him.

 

From the beginning, all this time, he’s just been toying with him, tormenting Naruto for simply being a magic user, taking pleasure in making him suffer, knowingly taking advantage of the fact Naruto won’t retaliate, won’t do anything that’d actively put Sasuke in harm’s way, because Naruto’s not the one these mercenaries came for.

 

But this guy, seemingly on a whim, someone teetering between such extremes, he’s not going to stop there.  With that kind of hatred festering inside him, fettered by an inflated sense of conceit, yet all too eager to indulge in such a blatant display of cruelty, eventually, inevitably, next time, he’s going to—

 

Trying to get Naruto’s attention, Sasuke starts to kick up from the floor, with a renewed effort, with the energy he doesn’t have, thrashes against the fingers all but wrapped around his neck, the hand pressing down harder, covering his throat, as he struggles in earnest, ultimately futile against a hold that still won’t budge.

 

“Y-you stupid idiot, they’re g-going to kill you!  Stay down before they kill you!  They’re going to kill you, Naruto!  They’re going to—”

 

His head’s wrenched to the side, as fingers tighten their grip on his chin, bearing down harder, the heel of a palm covering his throat, leaving him lightheaded, for seconds too long, leaving him only with thin breaths.

 

“Stop it!” commands Naruto’s voice, deeper, sonorous, a subtle change in tone bolstered by a rage that doesn’t belong to him alone.  “Let go of—”

 

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

 

There’s a shuffle of feet, the skidded halt from aborted steps, a brusque screech from boots skimmed across the floor. 

 

“Stay right there,” Red Two threatens, raising his rifle, aiming at Naruto, as Sasuke opens his eyes, blinks and swallows, forgets how to _breathe_.

 

“Well?” Red One says louder, with a patience once more waning, and yet with a smile Sasuke can nearly hear, on the brink of excitement, mounting, a twisted delight at Naruto’s refusal to play along.

 

“Do you, kid?”

 

When it happens, during the deceptive lull, during the time ridiculously short that trails those three ominous words, it happens too quickly, so suddenly, that Sasuke can’t be sure anything’s happened at all, because it happened while he was watching Red Two, a moment all it took, not even one second that instant his gaze strayed from Red One.

 

And in that moment, what follows, when there’s only silence, when there’s no sound, after the shot rings out, rings too clear, the sound of a rifle going off, there becomes a quiet, an utter quiet that turns still everything around him, renders mute even the clatter from the expended casing, as it bounces on the floor, rolls away from Red Two, momentarily rolls in red, before rolling to a stop at Naruto’s feet, where Naruto’s already looking down.

 

But he’s not looking at the casing.  He’s not even looking at the small drops of red beaded at his feet.

 

He’s looking at the hand laid over his stomach—his hand.  Slowly, he pulls it away, turning over a palm saturated in red, as small drops fall from between his fingers, little by little fall to the floor, uncovering a darkening blot, enlarged on his black shirt, the outline uneven of a near imperceptible splotch, made visible beneath the faint green glow of the sole light in the cell.

 

And there Sasuke sees it, framed by Naruto’s open jacket, where the bullet ripped through Naruto’s shirt, through Naruto’s stomach, ripped a small hole right through him.

 

But when Naruto raises his head, when he looks up in disbelief, turns to him with such incredulous eyes, once vibrant eyes so vivid a blue, glassy, dulled almost grey, almost as pale as Naruto’s face.

 

And then he makes the strangest noise, this tiny little sound, a mangled sort of choked garble, far too small for someone as brash and self-assured as Naruto.

 

Wrong.

 

It’s wrong.

 

All of it, everything feels so...

 

On his feet, Naruto wobbles, then sways a little to the side.  Blood dribbles down the side of his chin, from the corner of his mouth ajar trickles steady.  He splutters, through the slow cascade of blood from between his lips, gurgles a sound, gurgles the beginnings of a word, the first two syllables of Sasuke’s name, before Naruto’s legs fail him, and he crumples to the floor.

 

But Naruto can’t...

 

Naruto’s not...

 

And yet Naruto’s lying there unmoving, seemingly not breathing, still bleeding, surrounded by his own pool of blood spreading farther across the floor.

 

Naruto was...

 

Naruto, he’s...

 

Naruto’s...

 

No.

 

No.

 

_No._

 

This feeling, as if he were dreaming, almost surreal, uncanny the simplest notion, and yet this sense so wholly bereft, in his mind, the faintest whisper, blurring the fragile line between life and...

 

Inside him, something just _breaks_ , and in its wake, tears open a chasm within him, a rupture in his empathy that leaves him blank, to that simple notion leaves him numb.

 

It makes his stomach churn, from behind his eyes burns his vision shaded in a haze of blues and greys, as even the slightest motions no longer become his own, as his magic swells beneath his skin, a quickening pulsation, no longer a gentle hum in his consciousness, reverberating instead a dissonance that swathes his body in _utter_ _cold_ , overtakes him, spurs relentless, unforgiving, already seeking, indiscriminate, leeching from the life of anything and anyone around him.

 

“H-hey, man, what’s with the kid?  His eyes, they’re whi—”

 

“Handle it.”

 

“I’m handling it.”

 

“The hell kind of freaky-ass shit is he doing?”

 

Beneath him, he feels it, a discrete rumble from underneath the floor, somehow, from far below, strange the way it responds to him, surges to reach him, elusive tendrils of something _more_ , all that encompasses Barrah, buried deep within its earth, buried long forgotten, its fire and its winds and its sands, where there was once water, where there was once light, simply waiting, all that is, all this time, waiting for someone, waiting for...

 

“I thought you said he was harmless, huh?”

 

“He is.”

 

“Stop being such a snivelling shit.  The kid’s a damn bolo.  And the one that can’t even do anything to you.”

 

“Fuck it.  I might not know a lot about magic, but I ain’t that fucking stupid.  Since when does a goddamn bolo’s eyes fucking glo—”

 

“Your only job is to hold him, so calm the fuck down.”

 

“ _Fucking get it under control, Altameyer._ ”

 

“Yeah, yeah.  Shit.  Fucking magic, man.”

 

He gasps at the sharp pain against the side of his neck, body rigid at the prick of a needle jabbed through his skin.

 

The injection’s a rush to his system, some kind of drug, probably some kind of neuros, an inhibitor or sedative, completely addles his senses, the abruptness of it, unlike anything he’s experienced before, incredibly potent to have such an immediate effect, how rapidly it works, reducing him more and more towards an incoherent state.

 

The needle’s yanked from his skin, and yet his mind already feels groggy, his head too heavy, muscles gone lax, as he sags forward, as the arms around him begin to loosen their grip, yet before he even has a chance to fall, he’s being shoved to the floor, his body oddly pliant, limbs sluggish, pushed on his stomach, just as soon flung on his back, when a gloved hand covers his eyes, a weight on top of him, as more hands, different hands, hold his arms to the floor, on either side of his head, hold down his arms that won’t move.

 

“What’s wrong with him?  Why’s the kid not moving?”

 

“How high he’s been doped up, he won’t be moving any time soon.”

 

“How much of that stuff you even give him?”

 

“Enough to subdue.  He’ll survive.”

 

“He better.  The last thing I’m doing, is putting my ass on the line for your fuckup.”

 

“Doubt that’d have anything to do with me.”

 

“The Uchiha kid, we taking him back like this, or what?  Because I—”

 

“Get a-away...from him.  Get off h-him, before I...before I...”

 

“...you’ve got to be fucking with me.  Seriously, tell me this kid is fucking with me or something, because there’s no way he’s trying to get up again.”

 

“He’s trying to get up again.”

 

“If you’re going to leave it like this, at least shut him up for good.”

 

“And where’s the fun in that?”

 

“Never seen a bolo act like this, though.  The ones we got before, they didn’t put up much of a fight.  They just pissed over themselves, scared shitless, you know, the usual, begging for their lives, but this blond kid...”

 

“Annoying little punk, but he’s something else.  I’ll give him that.”

 

“Wonder what else the Uchiha kid can do, then.  He’s supposed to be a light user or some shit, right?”

 

“Life user.”

 

“Like any of it matters.  Suddenly, you find a bolo that makes you give a fuck?”

 

“If that’s what you want to think.”

 

“Still, even if he’s Uchiha’s brother, what’s the kid do that’s so special?  What makes him different from the other bolos?  Does the rest of him glow in the dark, too?”

 

“You already know what he is.  You read the brief.”

 

“Yeah, but all that healing shit people keep talking about, what does that actually mean he can do?  You touch him, and then, what—poof, all of a sudden you’re healed?”

 

“Keep touching him, and maybe he’ll finally fix that spilled can of fuck on your face.”

 

“Fuck off, man.  You’re the walking nut sack—you touch him.”  

 

“You’re already doing it, aren’t you?”

 

“Whatever.  All I’m saying is, I mean, how does it even work?  Is there some kind of switch to turn it on or off?  Or something like a button you’re supposed to push?”

 

“Really?  That what you still gawking at the kid for?”

 

“Apparently.”

 

“Both of you better get the fuck out of here with that shit.  If it wasn’t for the money, you know I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass.  It’s just, there’s something...”

 

“What?”

 

“Spit it out.”

 

“I don’t know.  But something about him, it almost feels like...”

 

The gloved hand remains over his eyes, but the other hands, they leave from his arms, leave his arms lying still on the floor, allow for fingers curious trailing along the collar of his jacket— _Itachi’s jacket_ , and he flinches, inhales sharp at the slow, downward pull of the zipper, at the hands leaving Itachi’s jacket open, leaving his own shirt exposed.

 

“ _Don’t you touch him—don’t you_ dare _touch him!  Get your fucking hands off of_ —”

 

“Make it easy on yourself, kid.  Just stay down.”

 

“Now, look what you made me do.  Messing with your shitty ass, got blood all over my boot because of you.  And it’s like we’re right back where we started.

 

“My patience can only go so far, you know.  Already beat the shit out of you.  Already shot you.  As accommodating as I’ve tried to be, as unappreciative as you’ve been, how much more is it going to take from me, to teach a mouthy shit like you to shut the fuck up?”

 

“Stop fucking around, then.”

 

“Who’s fucking around?  Didn’t you say I should take these things more seriously?  Deciding to let the kid even live this long, isn’t that serious enough?”

 

The fingers steal beneath Itachi’s jacket, slowly slip beneath Sasuke’s shirt, gloved fingers slithered over his stomach, crept along his sides, persistent touches, pervasive in his mind, roamed with the blur of too many voices, too many thoughts he can’t trace, too many hands he can’t push away.

 

But why can’t he…

 

His body won’t move.

 

His body still won’t let him move.

 

“The Uchiha kid, why is he still not moving?”

 

“I told you.  He’s fine.”

 

“It sure as hell doesn’t look like he’s—”

 

“Wait, wait, wait—you feel that?”

 

“What’re you doing?”

 

“Come on, you touch him, too.”

 

“I’m already—”

 

“No, like this.  Just...”

 

His breath comes hitched, sharper, faster, crawled over bare skin, the pads of fingers marking impressions, a mire of sensations he can’t immediately place, with each touch prolonged, a ubiquitous cold he can’t escape, spreading the smallest shivers, his body engulfed by each twitch, by fingers that seem to chase each isolated shudder, as he blinks unseeing, his eyes still covered, tries to follow with trembling lips, the slightest movements of hands searching, seemingly from every direction, the continued rustle of fabric, scurried among words, too many emotions, his head darting from side to side, stilted from each violent flinch.

 

“...oh.”

 

“...what is that?”

 

“I can’t say, but it’s...”

 

“...yeah, it feels...it feels good, really...”

 

Laughing.

 

Above him, there’s laughing, light, soft, almost giddy, an elated sort of laughter, as fingers move to lift his shirt, palms pressed against his hips, pressing into his skin.

 

But why are they…

 

Their hands, those hands, they’re still touching him.

 

Why are they still—

 

“You bastards, stop touching him!  Get your fucking hands off him, or I’m going to kill you—I’ll kill you!  I swear I’ll kill you!  All of you, I’m going to fucking kill y—”

There’s a resounding smack, then the loud thump of something heavy hitting the floor, a body, paired with a low groan that sounds like...

 

Naruto.

 

Naruto isn’t...

 

He needs to be near Naruto.

 

He has to get to Naruto.

 

Where’s...

 

“Heh.  Resilient little fucker, isn’t he?  Loud as hell, too.”

 

“Goddamn, shut him the fuck up already, or I’ll do it for you.”

 

“You won’t do shit, Illario.  I’ll do _what_ I fucking want to do, _when_ I fucking want to do it, all right.  You got that?”

 

“Get your head out of your ass.  The kid’s going to die out here in this shithole, anyway.  Either put him out of his misery, or leave him alone.  I couldn’t give less of a _fuck_ about which one you pick.  Just make up your damn mind, so we can go.”

 

“Che.  Since when you’d turn into such a weak dick?  As long as you get paid, the hell’s it even matter to you?”

 

“Look, we got what we came for.  No reason for us to still be here, watching you jerk off to this twisted shit.”

 

“Same shit both of you did last time, too.  Didn’t hear you complaining about having that—”

 

“Fuck you, Monfriez.”  None too gently, a hand pulls down Sasuke’s shirt, brings together a zipper, yanks it up to close Itachi’s jacket.  “I ain’t nothing like that.  You’re the fucked-up dick who—”

 

The air stills with a deafening roar, braying, an angry bellow that fills the cell, floods into the corridor, a perilous, feral sound that shakes the very foundations of everything around him.

 

It knocks aside the weight on top of him, the weight of someone holding him down, absent the hand covering his eyes that he opens bleary, as he looks towards the ceiling, stares absently at the pale green light directly over him, a soft glow shining down on him.

 

“...the fuck?”

 

“Shit, man, what was that?  What just happe—”

 

“I don’t believe it.”

 

“Get up, Altameyer.  Get the fuck up, right now.  Get up.”

 

“Holy shit...”

 

It drives away the cold, a fury of chaotic winds that scathes like fire, a warmth that seeks him, immediately finds him, washes over him, rests familiar in his consciousness, an impatient tug, this very primal, visceral thing, gradually turned a comforting sensation, settling within him.

 

“Jesus fucking christ, what is that?!  The fucking hell is that thing— _what the hell kind of fucking monster is that thing?!_ ” 

 

“...I can’t believe this shitty bolo.  This fucking soulless, son of a bit—”

 

“There’s no time for that shit, Monfriez!  Spread out, and aim for the flanks!”

 

“Atlameyer, you useless sack of shit, the hell you think you’re doing in the corner?  You got nowhere else to go, so get your ass back over here!”

 

“Damn it, he’s too fast.  I can’t even get in a shot.  He keeps shaking me.”

 

“No, no, no, I’m getting out of here—I didn’t sign up for this shit!  I’m not fucking going near that monster!  It’s going to kill us!  That monster’s going to kill us!  We’re all going to di—”

 

“Get back here, shithead, and pick up your weapon!  Shoot, damn you!  Shoot him!”

 

“Fucking leave him there.  Just shoot it!  Shoot it anywhere!”

 

“I don’t want to die like this, man...I can’t...not like this.  Not like—”

 

“Don’t just stand there, you fuck—shoot!  Keep shooting it!  Shoot it in the head!  Blow its goddamn fucking brains out!”

 

Through the continued barrage comes another booming roar, drowns out the sound of metal fallen to the floor, strangles stark into silence a bloodcurdling scream.

 

Above him, the dim light flickers, starts to penetrate his daze, a more pronounced discord, grown immense, the second act of a cacophony, arrived with yet another hail of bullets, the pungent smell of burnt flesh, the squelching crunch from the removal of bone still attached to tissue and muscle layered beneath skin, as a light spray of something wet splashes onto his cheek.

 

He blinks.

 

“Oh, fuck, it got him—fucking shit, it got Illario!  It killed him!  Illario’s dead!”

 

“Damn it, Altameyer, you blubbering shit—shut up, and shoot the thing already!  Shoot the damn thing!”

 

“It tore his arm off, man—that monster fucking tore his arm right off!  S _hitshitshitshit_ —”

 

“Shoot him!”

 

_“Please, no.  Oh, god, please, no.  Please.  Please, don’t kill me.  Don’t let it kill me.  Please, god, pleas—”_

 

Gunfire ricochets off the walls, dances a harsh staccato, the accompaniment to a broken melody of choked sobs, obscured amid the manic shrill of terrorised shrieks.

 

“Die, you goddamn motherfucker!  Damn you to hell!  All you bolos are the fucking same!  You can’t kill me!  You ain’t got shit on—”

 

Eclipsed by a deep growl, the voice fades with stifled cries, wanes into a gruesome decrescendo.

 

This time, however, there are no more screams.

 

In the final refrain, there remains only muted noise, the soft rustling of deliberate tears that create hushed sound.

 

And then...

 

Nothing.

 

There’s nothing.

 

But he doesn’t...

 

He can’t...

 

_...Shakti._

 

Again, Sasuke blinks.

 

_Shakti._

 

A low rumble rouses him, a voice calling to him, in his mind, carefully prodding him.

 

_You must come to me, Shakti.  Hurry to us.  Come._

 

Naruto...

 

He won’t leave Naruto.

 

He has to get to...

 

“…Kyuubi,” he hears himself whisper, as he feels his body begin to move on its own accord, still weary as he turns on his side, slowly turns on his hands and knees, beckoned by a force that compels him forward, towards Naruto draws him closer.

 

The floor is slippery beneath him, across its surface a wetness that soaks through his pants, drenches his knees, drenches his hands, shallow puddles of a viscous substance slick over his palms, sticky between his fingers.

 

His body pauses, kneeled in front of Naruto, facing Naruto’s side, faced with a flash of near scalding heat, quick to surround him an undulating warmth, a dense miasma, near oppressive, a wave of magic in its purest form.

 

Crouched on all fours, Naruto pivots to face him, turns his head sharply—it’s Kyuubi who snarls at him, darkens Naruto’s lips with a vicious sneer, snaps at him, baring Naruto’s canines elongated into fangs.

 

Sasuke doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver in his resolve, because he already knows this is Kyuubi lashing out in fear, Kyuubi afraid of losing Naruto, of again being alone, but there’s no time for him to wait.

 

“Kyuubi,” he again hears himself whisper, feels the name fall soft from his lips.

 

A hand reaches for Naruto’s face, gently laid across the marks grown more prominent on Naruto’s cheek.  The magic still enveloping Naruto begins to settle at Sasuke’s touch, as Kyuubi sits, still harried beneath Sasuke’s expectant gaze.

 

The edge of Kyuubi’s lips curls with a guttural purr, drawing attention to the specks of red proudly displayed on his chin, tinting his skin the same red spattered over his other cheek, spattered over the rest of Naruto’s face.  In the space left sparse between them, from his breath, begins to permeate the metallic stench of decay, as Kyuubi watches him, acknowledges him with the slightest bow, narrowed eyes steady returning his gaze.

 

With a gruff snort, he brings himself closer, intercepts Sasuke’s arm with fingers wrapped around Sasuke’s wrist, Naruto’s nails almost like claws, barely scraping over Sasuke’s forearm, not deep enough to break skin, as Kyuubi’s magic responds to him, the way he’s always appealed to Kyuubi, but there’s only the slightest tingle, as tentative now as it’s ever been, because Kyuubi’s magic has never burned.

 

Because Kyuubi’s never tried to harm him.

 

 _Those wretched humans did this to him, Shakti.  They did this to him.  And they_ touched _you.  They touched you in front of me—they dared lay their hands on you.  So I killed them.  And I’ll kill again if I must, Shakti.  I can do no less for you._

 

His presence shrouds Naruto like fire, simmers in temperate hues of oranges and reds, a bubbling, near translucent silhouette of Kyuubi’s true form, where behind Naruto an impression of four tails becomes five, becomes six, becomes seven.

 

Around them, Kyuubi’s magic roils, threatens to raze anything within reach, crackles with fleeting pockets of static, currents of energy peeling away uneven at Naruto’s skin, deepening already broad, serrated lines split haphazard across Naruto’s face.

 

Barrah itself seems to shudder, as Sasuke stares into Kyuubi’s eyes, stares almost mesmerised, into seemingly hollowed eyes near voids of red, because there’s no trace of Naruto.  On the surface, it’s Kyuubi.  It’s all Kyuubi, a truly impressive force, even the sight of him now so contained, still a sight to behold, so heavily intertwined with Naruto, magnificent in his own right, still proud as he’s ever been, so long ago, as small as he used to be, even then.

 

The sheer breadth of Kyuubi’s power, however, the force of such old magic, such raw magic, despite Kyuubi himself still mostly contained, it’s too much for Naruto to bear on his own.  He’s not ready to handle it now, not like this, not yet, but Kyuubi’s too close to the surface, too clouded by his own rage, in his desperation to save Naruto, overwhelming him, inadvertently killing Naruto as fast as he’s trying to heal him.

 

 _Let me stay, Shakti.  Naruto is mine.  He is_ mine _.  I will not leave him.  I will not—_

 

“But you’re hurting him like this, Kyuubi,” he says simply, not unkind, conveys a calm with the soft murmur of Kyuubi’s name alone, as Kyuubi’s magic flares, a flurry of winds that encircle them, in waves ripples through him, resonates within him, as he soothes the presence inside him, as if Kyuubi’s magic were his own.

 

“...you’re hurting him.”

 

Gently, Kyuubi loosens his hold, so very careful with him, almost reluctant, lets him go.

 

Sasuke lets himself lean forward, lets himself lean into Kyuubi, a hand still cradling Naruto’s face.  He takes a moment to breathe, his forehead lying against Naruto’s, while he lowers his other hand, lays it over Naruto’s stomach, where Kyuubi’s magic rushes to meet him, as he imbues Naruto with his own life force, begins to overlay with his magic where Kyuubi’s couldn’t reach.

 

_Help him, Shakti.  Save him.  Because like this, I can’t—_

 

 “I know.”

 

_Do not allow those humans to take Naruto from me._

 

_Do not leave me to be left alone again._

 

  _I won’t_ , he doesn’t say, doesn’t promise, because as they both are now, despite all the impossible things he somehow seems to just _know_ , in the back of his mind, the same whispers over time, again and again, he’s heard so often before, he understands with this, _this_ , he can never know, and so for now, he lifts his head, doesn’t look away, only looks into Kyuubi’s eyes—such sad eyes, such lost eyes, for a moment remembers such young eyes, but eyes that look to him, yield to him, implore him, in red eyes, all that Kyuubi ever was, that Kyuubi is, that Kyuubi has yet to be, presented before him.

 

He presses his hand against Naruto’s shirt, presses lightly over Naruto’s wound.

 

Yet there’s something already there, something he can almost imagine, doesn’t quite envision, hints of markings otherwise concealed, that would’ve otherwise remained undisturbed, if not for the gash in Naruto’s life force, where the bullet went right through him, what began as traces of the smallest little tear, already expanded into a gaping hole—invisible markings, the faint glimpse of a large spiral covering Naruto’s abdomen, something to do with Kyuubi, how he’s been kept inside Naruto, like some sort of sea—

 

But then it’s gone, an image that disappears when the gaps in Naruto’s life force begin to mend, as Sasuke continues to pour his magic into him, allows it flow freely, naturally, far beyond provisional dead space, rapid in its search for even the slightest disruption in Naruto’s life force it can find.

 

Gradually, the magic shrouding Naruto recedes.  What’s left of dead skin flakes away from Naruto’s face, in its place leaving skin unmarred, still blotchy.

 

Removing his hand from Naruto’s stomach, Sasuke shivers, gripping Naruto’s jacket instead, trying to keep himself upright.

 

“...Naruto’s okay,” he whispers, murmurs the only assurance he can give, as he watches Kyuubi’s eyes fall closed, open to reveal the most vivid blue, before they close again, before Naruto collapses against him.

 

He grunts, struggles trying to support Naruto, with both arms reached around him, tries to hold Naruto close to him, gently adjusting Naruto’s head over his shoulder.

 

“He’ll be okay.  You’ll both be okay, Kura—”

 

His body seizes, suddenly reminded, still swathed in _utter_ _cold_ , his magic still restive beneath his skin, still seeking, unrelenting, as he topples beneath Naruto’s weight, slows his heart, slows the rise and fall of his chest.

 

He hits the floor hard, hits his head, not letting go of Naruto.  His fingers clutch at the back of Naruto’s jacket, the material squeezed tight in his hands, and he gasps, squeezes his eyes shut, overtaken by small tremors.

 

Despite the persistence of Naruto’s warmth, he continues to shiver, growing colder and colder still.  He doesn’t know how long they lie there, how long he holds on to Naruto, how long his eyes remain closed, when his arms eventually fall to the side. 

 

He thinks he hears Kyuubi, maybe, hears the faint litany of his name, that name ( _SachiSachiSachi),_ Kyuubi calling to him, telling him to wake, but he can’t open his eyes.

 

His body won’t...

 

Vaguely, he feels the weight being lifted from his chest.  He flinches beneath an unfamiliar touch, shudders against gloved hands that pick him up, arms that carry him, take him away from...

 

But he can’t...

 

Because he...

 

Why is it still so…


	13. Dirty Harry XII: Bobby In Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for references to non-consensual touching, violence, and gore.
> 
> ETA: Because I tend to be even more obscure (read: dramatic) when I'm embarassed, I should clarify. Yes, this is the end of DH, and where I intended for it stop. It just took a ridiculously long time to get there, especially since I never expected it to get so big, or that I'd end up doing so much with this world . This fic seriously done did me in, and, looking over it, I have very mixed feelings about it.
> 
> I will say, though, on and off, I have been writing the second part to DH; I just don't know if I want to tackle it any time soon, or if I even will at all, and that's why I say this is the end.

He wakes with a soft intake of breath.

 

Prone on his stomach, lying on his stomach, stilled, he breathes out to an uncomfortable sensation, the feeling of something dried on his face, a substance caked on his chin, nearly saturating the front of his shirt, tingles over his skin, down his arms, over his hands seemingly drenched, even caught between his fingers.

 

His eyes flutter at light coming from above, a pale green scarcely lighting his surroundings, mostly white, the prison, the cell where he and—

 

His eyes dart to his right, beside him where Sasuke should be, where Sasuke once was, but Sasuke, he can’t sense Sasuke anywhere.  Sasuke’s not—

 

It doesn’t come to him all at once, just bits and pieces, as he tries to remember, tries to piece together a rush of snippets that gradually become more and more clear, memories that start to resurface, gradually turned from a red haze, gaps Kyuubi doesn’t hesitate to fill in.

 

He remembers being separated from Sasuke, remembers one of the mercenaries taking Sasuke away, vaguely remembers being shot, remembers the pain, remembers those guys touching Sasuke, the way they just kept touching him, each time Sasuke flinched, still wouldn’t stop touching him, kept laughing at him, as Kyuubi grew even angrier, as Kyuubi’s magic began to overwhelm his own, when Kyuubi finally—

 

 _And if they killed you, Naruto?  If those_ humans _took you away from me?_

 

There’s a sense of vindication there, entirely too calm, that self-assured, in Kyuubi’s voice a level of cruelty he’s never actually heard before that chills him.

 

He’s always been aware of how powerful Kyuubi is, the devastating potential of that kind of raw magic, all the stories that wrote Kyuubi as a demon, a destroyer of worlds, knows firsthand the impact of what drove Kyuubi so long ago, the extent of that kind of hatred Kyuubi still harbours even now.

 

From the moment they first met, even as a kid, even then he couldn’t ignore Kyuubi’s hatred towards people.  No matter how strongly Kyuubi feels about him now, and maybe in some ways even because of it, their relationship wasn’t enough to dissolve Kyuubi’s hatred, didn’t do much to change Kyuubi’s opinion of most people overall, barely skimming the surface of emotions the only thing left Kyuubi has of his memories.

 

If anything, although Kyuubi’s a lot calmer than he used to be, it just means he’s a lot more casual about his bloodlust when it comes to Naruto’s welfare, when it comes to protecting the few people he does care about, carelessly issuing blatant threats he’s never shied away from, never tried to shield Naruto from, but even knowing what Kyuubi’s capable of, what Kyuubi’s always hinted towards, even without being serious, how commonplace that kind of exchange really is between them, the simple gist of what Kyuubi would encourage him to do, Naruto couldn’t have imagined it would one day lead to this, that Kyuubi would actually...

 

That Kyuubi would use him to...

 

Even though he wasn’t in a position to stop it, wasn’t even conscious for it, he can’t just overlook the fact Kyuubi still used him to kill those guys, that Kyuubi willingly put more blood on his hands.

 

With his hands, Kyuubi did this.

 

With his hands, all of them, he killed them.

 

He _killed_ them.

 

He—

 

He starts to heave, starts to stand on his hands and knees, body wavering, arms bending too low, fumbling as he tries not to fall, his palms slipped against the slick floor, the burning in his chest the same burn building from behind his eyes squeezed shut, squeezed too tight trying to hold in the bile nearly threatening to choke him. 

 

His chest expands, forcefully constricts as his body’s lurched forward, his face all but shoved against the floor, landing propped on elbows unsteady, wetness drawn down the corners of his eyes, except nothing comes out, despite the bile stuck in the back of his throat, bile that somehow refuses to come up— _nothing’s coming out_ —but then suddenly, he notices an awful smell, _that smell_ , with shuddering breaths, slowly begins to raise his head, with trembling lips, from the floor slowly begins to lift his chin, slowly begins to open his eyes.

 

And then he notices his hands, notices them shaking, curled into fists, truly looks at them stained red, darkening the sleeves of his jacket, splattered all over his clothes, all over his skin, the same colour red painted across white walls, streaked along the shell casings littering the floor, smattered drops of red among large puddles still glossy, surrounding mangled bodies little more than bones protruding from burnt flesh, bodies deformed wearing no faces, still wearing masks, covered in black, lightweight armour ripped and singed in places where arms aren’t supposed to bend, where legs aren’t supposed to twist, thin cloth torn off in places where limbs are supposed to be.

 

But the smell, even seeing what he’s done, in light of the aftermath of what Kyuubi used him to do, it’s the smell that cements it, almost enough to bring the bile up his throat, because it’s still there, almost palpable, a coppery tang he can practically taste in his mouth, that awful smell of blood and the slow beginnings of decay.

 

_They were prepared to kill you.  They would’ve killed you, if not left you for dead.  My actions only speak to reason, so why do you question them?  What else would you have had me do?_

 

 _Not this_ , he wants to say, despite what those mercenaries did to him, what they did to _Sasuke_ , almost wants to argue that Kyuubi didn’t have to kill them, that Kyuubi shouldn’t have gone that far, but even he can acknowledge how weak an argument it actually is, expecting Kyuubi to compromise under those circumstances, because if Kyuubi hadn’t taken over, if Sasuke hadn’t somehow managed to heal the small hole left from where a bullet tore through his stomach, he honestly doesn’t think he’d be alive right now.

 

But Kyuubi didn’t just kill them.  How brutal a slaughter the whole thing was, those guys never stood a chance.  Even with his magic mostly contained, nowhere near fully unleashed, Kyuubi mutilated them, chased his own satisfaction, ruthless, picking them off one by one, further incited by their screams, as they each stood terrified before him, as they begged of him and prayed not to die.

 

The sounds Naruto can only imagine, but the images too clearly he already knows because it’s what Kyuubi didn’t hesitate to show him.

 

And yet Kyuubi doesn’t feel remorse for any of it, nothing even remotely close to it, and maybe it’s for that reason it’s hard for Naruto to reconcile the justification of Kyuubi’s actions with what Kyuubi actually did, what Kyuubi used his body to do.

 

Pushing aside his own feelings, a heavy sense of disappointment, hitting too close to home, a flicker of something he’s not quite willing to call betrayal, he’s far more disturbed by the simple idea that Kyuubi _enjoyed_ killing them—flashes of a vicious grin, in the middle of a bloodbath, indulging in a superior sort of pleased, even after the fact, Kyuubi still wholly apologetic about doing what he merely deemed _needed to be done_.

 

But to die like that, Kyuubi didn’t have to go so—

 

 _And spare them to what end?  To think I shouldn’t have enjoyed killing them, and especially after such a pathetic display.  Tch.  For what reason did they deserve mercy,_ my mercy _, when none was given to you?  When no mercy was given to Sachi?_

But Naruto’s not like that.  In the back of his mind, as Kyuubi grows tense, more impatient, tapping into a whorl of emotions not his alone, there’s the part of him that can’t find fault within Kyuubi at all, but that’s still not who he is.  That’s not the kind of person he’s ever wanted to be.

 

The kind of person only capable of hurting those around him, the monster Mizuki would so many times accuse him of being.

 

No matter how often Mizuki would say it, despite not even knowing about Kyuubi, as long as no one else was around, how hard Mizuki tried to make him believe it, over and over told Naruto that a monster was all he’d ever be, until that one afternoon Mizuki convinced him he’d eventually hurt Sasuke, the one person he was trying so hard to protect, what ultimately made up Naruto’s mind that day when he decided to run away.

 

Yet even following Mizuki’s transfer, following all those years passed before the next time Naruto would see him again, right before Mizuki died on top of him, not long after Naruto drove Mizuki’s own knife in deeper, a wet gurgle faded into the silence hung between them, the last word Mizuki said, the last time he’d ever...

 

But Kyuubi always said it wasn’t true, with a surprising amount of patience, continued to reassure that scared little kid Naruto used to be, because those things Mizuki said about him, they were never true.

 

He’s not a monster.

 

He’s not a—

 

(The blood, _his_ blood, _their_ blood, all of it, so much—

 

 _Not Shakti’s_ , Kyuubi snarls, startles him, as Naruto’s body shivers, arms wobbling, knuckles pressed hard against the floor.

 

With a shudder, he swallows, shaky, with the back of his hand, wipes at his mouth, the cuff of his sleeve wiping at the blood dried along his chin.

 

He sits back a little, breathes a little better, _breathes_.)

 

It’d be all too easy to label Kyuubi a monster, just pretend Kyuubi’s solely responsible, but Naruto knows Kyuubi’s not like that, either.  Not anymore.  As long as he’s known Kyuubi, as long as Kyuubi’s known him...

 

However unintentional, the consequences he didn’t mean to happen, he had a part to play, too.  He can still remember wanting to hurt them himself, can’t escape how badly he wanted to hurt them for what they were doing to Sasuke, even without Kyuubi’s influence, through his own words, what were supposed to be _just words_ , swore he was going to kill them, blinded by an absolute rage, nearly lost his mind—how angry he was at himself, how helpless he felt, unable to do anything when those guys drugged Sasuke, when they pushed him down, held him down, started poking and prodding him, putting their hands all over him, treating Sasuke like he was just some shiny new _thing_ they had a right to touch.

 

As easy as it would be to put the blame entirely on Kyuubi, ignore the weight of his own thoughts, his own frame of mind blurred between the pain and adrenaline, bled into the backdrop of Kyuubi’s violent mantra, turned numb beyond the compulsion to reach Sasuke, he can’t deny Kyuubi was only echoing what was already there, mirroring what Naruto already—

 

But he didn’t mean it like this.

 

He didn’t mean it like...

 

 _...I nearly lost you, Naruto.  Those worthless humans nearly took you away from me, once more tried to take what is_ mine _, once more dared to take Shakti away from me—they took what is ours, what has always been mine, but I will not lose Shakti._

_Not again._

 

Dragging himself upright, Naruto blinks, nearly sat against the wall, leaned forward a little, eyes narrowed at the open doorway.

 

Again?

 

What does Kyuubi mean by again?

 

How can they lose Sasuke again?  They’ve never lost Sasuke before, nothing like this, never anything like this.

 

Before, he’s always been there to protect Sasuke.  Everyone knows he’s the one who’s supposed to look after him.  To make sure nothing happens to Sasuke, that’s what everyone expects him to do, because he promised he’d always take care of Sasuke.  He promised he’d keep Sasuke safe.

 

All those times before, he promised.

 

Promised his parents, promised Mikoto and Fugaku, promised Itachi, promised Sasuke—he promised.

 

He _promised._

 

But he’s the one who let this happen.  He’s the one who let them do those things to Sasuke, let them take him away.  He wasn’t strong enough to stop them, wasn’t strong enough to keep his own promise, wasn’t strong enough to keep Sasuke safe. 

 

Kyuubi said he hadn’t been unconscious long, only a few hours, insists they haven’t lost Shakti yet, that they can still catch up to whoever had taken him, but to Naruto, already it feels like it’s been more than hours, feels like it’s been _days_ , because Sasuke’s gone.  _Sasuke’s gone._  

 

Sasuke’s gone, and it’s his fault.

 

It’s his fault.

 

It’s all his fau—

 

_Get up, Naruto.  There’s no time for this.  Quickly, you need to get up._

 

Right.

 

Kyuubi’s right.

 

Sasuke’s still out there.  Sasuke’s out there by himself, without anybody he knows, with the kinds of people who’d hurt him, so Naruto has to find him.

 

No, he’s going to find him.

 

He’s going to get Sasuke back.

 

He has to get Sasuke back.

 

He has to.

 

He just—

 

_Listen._

 

 

Without hesitation, Naruto stills, listens, gaze turned sharp when he picks up what put Kyuubi on edge, the cause for sudden sense of urgency.

 

There.

 

He hears it.  Practically feels it.  Faint but gradually growing louder,

 

It’s coming from down the corridor, growing nearer, a quick patter of light steps—someone running towards them.  Alone, it seems.

 

_Another one of them._

 

Probably.

 

Back at the cave, initially, through his goggles, he confirmed four or five figures heading their way; Sasuke said he could sense five of them, even broke them off into cells of three and two, still leaving other two unaccounted for, if not more.

 

Considering they got what they apparently came for, content to assume Naruto was dead, or at least well on his way there, it doesn’t make sense why would any of them need to come back here, much less come back alone.  Whoever these guys are, whether they’re some offshoot of Root or not, obviously, he’s not one they’re interested in.  Those other mercenaries admitted as much, even tying it back to Itachi.

 

They didn’t seem interested in the prison, either, so why bother coming back at all, if Naruto’s expendable?

_Why should it matter?_

 

...no.

_They tried to kill you._

 

It doesn’t matter.

 

_They took Shakti._

 

All that matters is getting Sasuke back, and he’s not going to let another one of these bastards get in his way.

 

As the footfalls continue to draw closer, his magic is quick to respond, faster and faster, a pressure building steady as the ground sinks beneath him, where winds begin to surround him, impressed across the floor cracks spread from all around him, Naruto crouched on his hands and the balls of his feet.

 

The moment he sees the shadow along the wall, he doesn’t think.  As soon as a masked figure steps through the open doorway, instinct compels him to act, because without Sasuke here, without having to worry about hurting Sasuke, this time, Naruto doesn’t have to wait.

 

This time, he attacks first.

 

A gush of wind catches the mercenary off guard, sweeps him off the floor with a sharp cry, knocks away the rifle hanging from around his shoulders, Naruto already pushing off from the balls of his feet, giving himself a running start, as the mercenary’s hurled towards the wall of the corridor, hitting the surface with a loud smack.  By the time Naruto reaches him, his fist’s already drawn back, aiming for the mercenary’s face.

 

Before the hit has a chance to connect, the mercenary lets his body drop, using a hand against the wall as leverage, in an effort to meet the floor faster.

 

Naruto doesn’t falter, quick to adapt, as he pivots, allows his body to follow the momentum he maintains by redirecting it towards the floor.

 

The mercenary looks up, barely sparing Naruto a glance, before rolling away, narrowly avoiding the impact of Naruto’s fist, a blow heightened by the strength of Naruto’s magic alone, with enough raw power behind it to make a small crater taking up the width of the corridor, all but shattering the rifle that lay forgotten on the floor.

 

Staggering to his feet, the mercenary hisses, placing a hand over his upper arm, where winds had sliced right through the mercenary’s gear, almost right through his skin, darkening already black material.

 

Naruto watches, slowly stands.  Magic gathers easily in his palm, a surge of winds that ripple freely at his feet, soars upwards, whorled around him, whipping through his clothes, rising higher, whipping through his hair.  The earth rumbles beneath him, tremors that mark thin fissures along the floor, seem to shake entire prison, the air turned dense, Kyuubi’s magic bubbling below the surface, already tingling at his skin, as his own magic settles, lowers, stays close to the floor.

 

With nowhere else to go, the mercenary ducks into the nearest cell.

 

_They hurt Shakti._

 

Naruto runs.

 

His boots squeak against the floor, smear trails of blood further thinned by the winds left in his wake, blood that squelches beneath his soles, blood not yet dried from flesh still attached to bone.

_They have Shakti._

 

The mercenary holds his position, with a muffled curse, plants his feet, back against the wall, backed against a corner, held at his sides both hands slightly curved, palms facing up.

 

Suddenly, a slab of rock shoots up in front of him, breaks up through the floor not just earth and sand, but solid rock, blocks him from Naruto.

 

But it doesn’t faze Naruto.  Doesn’t even slow him down.

 

“Bastard, don’t think you’re going to stop me!”  He moves to hit the slab, raising a fist that punches a hole right through it.  “You’re not going to stop me!”

 

Somehow, it doesn’t faze the mercenary, either, unaffected by chucks of rock that seem to fall around him.  It serves as an opportunity to stall, however, as he uses the brief distraction to put Naruto on the defensive.

 

He comes at Naruto fast, an onslaught of close range attacks that give Naruto no leeway, small, gloved hands seemingly able to anticipate every counter, every time Naruto tries to take back the offensive, until the mercenary feigns a low jab Naruto tries to sidestep, in the same motion switching his stance, when Naruto goes in for a three palm strike, the mercenary lifting his leg and landing a swift kick to Naruto’s chest.

 

Naruto flies backwards, flies across the cell, lands against the wall with a resounding boom, with enough force to make a sizeable dent.

 

But he also lands back on his feet, takes only a second or two, shakes it off, stands like it was nothing.

 

The mercenary’s already charging towards him, light steps carrying him closer, more than halfway to Naruto, but then he comes to an abrupt stop, shifts on his feet, both hands again curled at his sides.

 

The floor quakes beneath him, as another slab of rock is erected between them, following in quick succession three more, thick, jagged pillars enclosing Naruto, from on all sides, four walls seemingly meant to contain him.

 

_As if I’d allow such pitiful things to cage me!  As if I’d allow some mere human to contain me!_

 

“Stand down, Uzumaki!”

 

The barriers crumble, as Kyuubi fumes, sheets of rock rendered rubble beneath the sheer presence of Kyuubi’s magic alone, rising closer to the surface, closer and closer to peeling away at Naruto’s skin.

 

_This foolish mortal thinks he has the means to stop me!_

 

“Damn it, Naruto, between you and Kyuubi, the two of you need to calm down!”

 

The sound of both their names, it’s enough of a shock to his system, a voice that comes off a lot less gruff than he was expecting, and Naruto blinks, tilting his head to side a little, feeling oddly chastised for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, as slowly, the fight begins to leave him.  Even Kyuubi’s given pause, his magic gradually receding, still a little on edge, but no longer seemingly hell-bent on lashing out.

 

They’re left at a standstill, one Naruto could break any moment, clearly already having regained the upper hand.  Instead, he chooses not to, takes the chance to look the mercenary over.

 

The mercenary doesn’t attempt to break the standstill, either, taking in deep breaths, exhales harsh, stance wide, still on the defensive, waiting for Naruto to make a move first.

 

Yet there’s something about this guy, something he feels he should know.

 

He seems smaller than the other guys, a little short for a mercenary, Naruto thinks, at least compared to three he went up against before, but what starts off as an absent train of thought quickly holds all his of attention, helps him shake off Kyuubi’s lingering influence, because there’s something else off, something he almost recognises, a persistent tugging at the edge of his mind, growing more and more familiar, something he should...

 

...magic.

 

It’s _magic_.

 

The ability to manipulate rock, sure, that should’ve been a dead giveaway, as caught up as he was in the heat of the moment, which means, though, this guy, somehow, he’s an earth user.  But it’s not just that, because this magic, it’s not just any magic.  This magic, this earth magic, Naruto’s felt it before.  He _knows_ this.  He—

 

The mercenary reaches for the front of his mask, a hand pulling it up from the bottom, where it extends to cover his neck.  In a single motion, with a hurried tug, he removes the mask from over his head, revealing pink hair cropped into a long bob, longer than Naruto remembers, tousled strands quickly pushed aside to reveal the open concern in pale green eyes, and Naruto swallows hard, suddenly feels tired, so very _tired_ , nearly sags in relief against the hand that gently holds his cheek.

 

 “…Sakura?”


End file.
